On the Island of Misfit Toys
by CheshireRyan
Summary: Brittany S. Pierce is a Misfit Toy. When she meets Santana and Lucy Q, she starts to realize that everyone is a Misfit Toy of some kind. The question is, how do you accept your Misfit-ness? G!P
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N:** This story isn't pure smut. Actually, there won't be any for quite a while. I got tired of G!P/intersexed fics where all it was was fucking and no character exploration or development. So, I wrote my own.

This sucker is dedicated to Mia because she helped me by teaching me to outline and by being an amazing initial beta. My current beta is glee-southwriter who is as badass as one could ask for.

I hope y'all like this. Please review and let me know what you think!

* * *

_It's very real and true and sad and hopeful  
__Just like me  
__It's one of those things I'll never tell  
__I'll carve it in a tree_

K's Choice, "Wait"

* * *

**Chapter One**

_New schools suck._

I remember when they closed the school that Erika and I went to back in Amersfoort and we had to start going to the other one across town. It wasn't very fun and their uniforms were different, scratchier. But this school in Lima is less fun than that was. I don't know anybody and they don't have uniforms. Mama had me dress up for my first day in a skirt and nice blouse and I felt like the odd duckling all day. Everyone else was wearing shorts and t-shirts and some kids had their underpants showing. I'm not sure if I could pull that off like the boys at Lima Heights High thought they could, but I want to try. Skirts_ suck._

The other downside is that Erika is in the other high school across town because she got into some cheerleading thing there. McKinley or McKinney or Mickeelee. Something like that. Schools in Lima, Ohio have bizarre names.

I'm not so sure about Lima. Chicago was big, but Lima is small. I asked Mama if I could get a llama like people in Peru had when she said we were moving here for her work but I'm not sure she got it. But I could remember Erika saying, _You sure she didn't get it or was too busy to try, K?_ I knew Mom would've understood the joke, but she wasn't here. If she was, she'd laugh and mess up my hair. _Oh Kalle. You're a goof._

That was another new thing to get used to. My name. My parents and sister pretty much call me everything but my name, so it's strange to have to go by it all the time now. They call me Eendje, Ducky, Kalle or just K. But now I'm going to be Brittany Susan Pierce all the time and it's slightly confusing. It's still tricky, trying to remember what people knew me as and where, but I almost always get it right nowadays.

"If you think any harder, you might blow something up." I look up from where I've been studying my skirt to find a tan girl standing in front of me. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and she has a small smile on her face.

I shake my head. "Using...Force to...get cookies" The girl starts laughing and sits down on the bench next to me. I notice her legs then. They're thin and just as tan as the rest of her. All scuffed up, too. A tomboy probably. I'm a tomboy, but I guess that could be debated. I'm a lot of things and sometimes I'm not sure they add up like two plus two equaling four. Maybe that's just me. Maybe everyone else adds them up and it makes four. I don't know.

"I'm Santana Lopez," the girl says. I smile and shake her offered hand. It's smaller than mine, warmer. Her nails are bitten and short and I feel like I could fall in love with her hands.

_Do people do that?_ I wonder. _Do they fall in love with people's hands?_ _Or is that just another_ me_ thing?_ Because I love her hands after just that handshake. They could fit in mine and keep them warm because mine are always cold. I feel my heart in my throat and my stomach flutters happily at that thought. I want to hold hands with her all the time just so I can keep the nice fluttery feeling in my stomach.

"Britt'ny Pierce," I say, smiling. When her hand leaves mine, I feel my face fall somewhat. A warm finger wrapping around my pinkie makes me look up to see hers around mine._ Close enough,_ I decide.

"Where are you from?" Santana asks and I look up at her, admiring her dark chocolate eyes. "I've never seen you around here before."

"Chicago," I reply, because that was the last place my family lived. The brunette nods and I tear my eyes away from her before something awkward happens that's been happening a lot lately. A group of boys are playing basketball, some with their shirts off. _Jesus, Kalle. Not a good idea._ I close my eyes and look back down to my skirt, starting to pick at it again.

"You got anywhere you have to be?" she asks. I shake my head _no_. Mama's at work and Erika has a thing after school so I've been wasting time before I have to go home to an empty apartment. I miss Mom being at home when I was done at school. "Come over to my place then."

_Oh no._ I wrack my brain, trying to come up with an excuse to not go. Santana is..._never mind._ Thinking about it is a bad idea. I don't want anyone to hate me when I've only gone to school here for one day. I need to call Mom tonight.

"Oh, come on," Santana says and pulls on my arm. "I promise I'm not being a creep. I just would like to hang out with someone who isn't family and the flies are starting to bite cause it's gonna rain later. So going to my house is like an excuse not to be eaten alive." I sigh and nod, following her as she leads me down the path towards the side with all the houses.

Santana's house is only a few minutes away on foot. It's a small two-storied house with an American flag hanging in the front window. The yellow paint is peeling from the siding and the blue-painted shutters are faded and worn, but I like it. It looks like a real home – a huge improvement over my family's two-bedroom apartment. I'm led through the front door into a slightly messy entryway.

My new friend kicks off her shoes and drops her backpack on the floor. I follow her example, though a bit more neatly, and follow her up the stairs to her bedroom. My stomach is no longer filled with the warm fuzzies, but with a churning feeling. Like being on a roller coaster, but way less fun.

Her room has two bunk beds on opposite sides of the room. The walls are covered in crooked posters and there are Legos piled in a corner. I figure younger siblings share that side because the posters are _Spongebob_ and _Spiderman_ ones rather than Bob Marley and a couple pretty landscapes. There are two dressers, one covered in crumpled clothing and the other cleared off. The room makes me think of Erika and sharing a room with her. We get along to an extent when it comes to how things are arranged in our room. Maybe the cleaner occupants and the messy ones are the same here?

"So, this is my room," Santana says and flops onto the bottom bunk of one of the beds. It's on the neater side though the bed is unmade. I sit down next to her, not sure if I'm supposed to or not. "You don't talk much do you?" I look over at the pretty brunette and smile awkwardly as I shake my head. She's right – I _don't._

She chuckles and pats my leg. "Don't worry. It's kind of a relief. My siblings are pretty loud and our house is never quiet when everyone's here." I blush when her hand is slow to leave my leg and I move to lie down next to her. We stay like that in silence for a while before the door opens.

A pale girl with light brown hair walks in and pauses as she sees me. She raises an eyebrow before moving to the neat side of the room with us and leaning over slightly. When she straightens, I notice she has a book in her hand before she climbs the ladder to the top bunk with it.

"How was your day, Luce?" Santana asks, staring at the bottom of the mattress above us. The bed shifts and creaks slightly before a quiet voice responds.

"It was okay. Aunt Mary took me to the library." I frown. _Isn't she our age? Why isn't she in school?_

"You an' Ma did the book thing, huh? Sounds like your type of party." A light chuckle comes from above us and everything goes silent again. "Lucy, the blonde chick with me is my friend Brittany. B, the lump above us is my cousin Luce. She an' her little sister live with us."

"Hi," I say before feeling awkward. Lucy doesn't seem like she'll say anything back. I guess when Santana said her siblings were loud, she neglected to say her cousin was quiet. _Quiet like me,_ I realize. Maybe we can be friends like I want to be with Santana. We're similar in a very important way after all.

We sit for a while, Santana talking as Lucy reads above us. When I glance at the clock, I realize it's almost four-thirty. Mama and Erika will be home soon. I stand and stretch, smiling regretfully at my new friend.

"Got...go." Santana nods and stands with me. We move to the door and are stopped by a quiet voice.

"Goodbye Brittany." I can see Lucy's head peaking out of the nest of pillows and blankets on the top bunk. I smile at her and she returns it, though a bit more shyly.

"'Bye Lucy." I wave before following Santana out of the room and down the stairs to the front door. As I slip on my shoes, I realize how much louder the house has gotten since I arrived. I can hear smaller kids running around and older voices laughing. It sounds happy though. I grin happily and look back at my new friend.

"I'll see you tomorrow at school," she smiles and moves towards me. I feel her arms wrapping around me and I realize suddenly that maybe I could fall in love with her hugs too. Then I remember that I'm a Misfit Toy and awkward things might happen. I pull away slightly, but smile so her feelings aren't hurt, and I leave. It's hard for me not to have a happy bounce in my step as I make my way to the apartment complexes on the other side of the park. I have so much to tell Mom.

* * *

When my sister passes the phone to me that evening, I almost drop it in anticipation. I glare at Erika until she leaves the room before pressing it to my ear.

"Hello?" I ask, hoping that Mom hasn't hung up. I need to talk to her about something and hope I have enough words left in my mouth to get her advice. Words are tricky. There are always more in my head than in my mouth and it frustrates me sometimes.

"Hey Ducky," the warm, slightly raspy voice says. I grin happily at finally being able to talk to my second mother, Annika Piersson. I can picture her tall lanky frame hunched over in a phone booth, a giant smile on her face as she talks to my sister and me. I miss her. "How was your first day of school?"

"Mama made...wear skirt. Okay though. Like Chicago. But smaller, different." I'm not sure what to say. I don't want to make it sound like I hated it because I didn't and I'm worried that I'll screw up and say the wrong thing. I bite my lip and hope Mom would take my short answer. _No dice._

"How different? Try to describe it to me, Duck. I wanna know so when I make it out to you guys I won't be scared or anything." My lip slides out of my teeth at the thought. Mom scared of little Lima? That's a funny idea, but I know she's just trying to get me to talk like the brain doctor said to make me do. I still hate that man sometimes.

"Everyone...knows...'ch other. Two schools. Wore...stupid skirt...Mama wanted...me to. Was scared." My breathing starts to speed up like it always does when I talk a lot. I hate talking.

"Why scared?" I bite my lip again, fighting the feeling of wanting to run away. My heart is racing and my lungs won't slow down any. Being scared and having to talk about it make me feel like I want to live under a rock with the unicorns.

"You know," I whisper. She does and I wish she'd just_ understand_ what I mean so I won't have to waste my few words on explaining to her. I hear a sigh over the phone and I can see her rubbing at her forehead.

"Yeah I do. I'm so sorry, Kalle," she says lowly, "I didn't mean for you to get the Piersson family trait." A surge of sadness hits me and I wish she were in Ohio right now so I could give her a giant hug. I knew she didn't mean for it to happen and I wish she'd stop feeling guilty about it.

"It's...okay...'M okay." I hear her breathing and try to slow mine down to match hers. I can see her with her eyes closed, holding onto the shelf under the phone.

"Nothing happened, though, right? You're okay?" I nod, then realize that I'm on the phone. I wish we had a video phone like Doctor Evil does on _Austin Powers_. Talking to Mom would be so much easier when she's gone if we had that.

"No bad...hap'd." I pause, then try to figure out what I'm going to say so I can get it out before I get tired of talking. "Met a girl. Was scared...'round her. Nothing hap'd. Kind of friends, Cousin's quiet...like me."

"That's awesome, Ducky." We sit in silence for a while. I like being able to hear her breathe over the phone. When she's here, I lie my head on her chest and listen to her heartbeat as she breathes. It keeps me calm and makes me feel a little less like one of the Misfit Toys. I'm not supposed to call myself that, but I do in my head because I am. I am their queen because while Mom can be considered a Misfit Toy, she isn't as screwed up as I am. She can actually talk.

"Hey Kalle?" Mom asks. I hum, not willing to waste words if I don't have to. "I'm out of money to feed the phone, so I have to let you go."

"Okay."

"Give your Mama a hug from me and tell her I'll call her in the morning when I can get a calling card. I love you, Ducky, and you're not a Misfit Toy." I gape for a moment, then realize that she knows me too well. She is my mother after all.

"Love too, Mom," I say hoarsely. She hangs up and I stare at the phone, wishing that I could jump through it to Sweden like Mario does with pipes. When I hear the phone beeping in irritation at me, I finally press the _TALK_ button to hang up and head out to the living room. Erika's helping Mama out in the kitchen while she makes supper. I hop up on the stool and watch them move around each other like they're dancing almost. Though, I doubt dancing would ever involve a knife and hot skillet.

Mama is shorter than me, her hair a light brown and her eyes the same light blue as mine. I always feel awkward next to her, like my arms and legs are too long for anything because she moves like water. Mama had been a dancer until she injured her knee when she was Erika's age.

Mom used to tell me stories of when they went to university in Stockholm together. Mama (formerly known as Laurien Meijer) was studying business, an exchange student from the Netherlands, and Mom was in education and psychology, living with her grandparents for the duration of university. They went out for a beer once "and the rest was history" apparently.

I didn't ever ask for more. I was content with listening to Mom talk and feeling her voice rumble in her chest and throat as I snuggled into her on the worn couch or my parents' bed. Mama would tease and say I was Mom's miniature clone. Though, now, I'm growing and not so miniature anymore.

"Hey Eendje," Mama says in her familiar accent and I blink, realizing that she's talking to me. A smile is on her face, making the skin around her bright blue eyes crinkle. "You done on the phone?" I nodded and dug the handset out of my hoodie pocket before placing it back on the charging cradle.

"We're making tacos," Erika speaks up. They usually don't make me talk much after I've been on the phone with Mom. Instead, they fill the gaps where I'd usually be asked to speak and practice my words. It was a welcome break. Sometimes I'd sign to let them know I was paying attention and participate halfway. "Chicken tacos with beans and rice. Mama got the idea when she was on her way home from work." I grinned and rested my chin on the counter, watching the two do their strange cooking-dance.

The only thing missing was Mom. She would come back when she came back. Her grandma was dying after all and that wasn't something that you should wish to go faster. Though, it sounded painful for everyone, so going faster might be nice. But that wasn't the point. What the point was was that life was pretty okay right now and when Mom got back, everything would be awesomer.


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N:** In the first season's Christmas episode, they sang a song from the _Rudolph_ movie about the Island of Misfit Toys. That's where this story/concept sort of came from. Not everyone has something physically different about them (like Brittany does), but they do all have things different about them that make them _feel_ like "Misfit Toys."

Misfit Toys were toys that were convinced that no child wanted Santa to give them. They were too damaged or weird. But, in the end, Santa delivers the Misfit Toys to boys and girls who love them and everyone lives happily ever after. Amazing, huh? Thank god for childrens' movies...

Keep that in mind while reading this

Yet again, this is dedicated to Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for hounding me. Figured I'd be nice to y'all and give you a second chapter soonish. Don't expect updates this often, though. It might take a bit longer with a few of the later ones.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_So I'm headed back to school  
__All brilliant and new  
__Trying hard to fit in  
__And not to walk like a man  
__A girl that I never noticed,  
__She asked me to hold this  
__A secret too hard to tell  
__I never will_

Amy Ray, "Pennies On the Track"

* * *

**Chapter Two**

I press my hands against my thighs nervously, wiping my palms on my jeans as I walk into school. It's day two and I'm still terrified. My messenger bag knocks against my leg gently as I make my way through the crowded halls to my locker. Once I manage to open it, I put my backpack away and grab my books for the first classes of the day. English and sociology.

English does nothing but confuse me. Mrs. Wiley has a boring voice and the poems don't always rhyme. I could have sworn poetry was supposed to rhyme. Maybe these are the reject poems that nobody likes.

I'm lost almost immediately. The boy sitting next to me places a folded piece of paper on my desk and smiles at me. I hesitantly smile back and open it.

_I'm Dylan. Welcome to Lima Heights._

I grin slightly at the simple message and scrawl a response before handing it back. I stare up at the board, watching as the teacher writes something out on the chalkboard. The chalk squeaks and it's weird to see the way part of her upper arm hangs down and jiggles when she writes. I'm not sure it's normal, but it doesn't seem to be harming her much. It might be uncomfortable though. She should wear a jacket to keep her arm together better or something.

The bell eventually rings and I stand, following my classmates into the hallway. A hand on my arm makes me turn to see Dylan. He's tan like Santana and his smile reminds me of her. He's taller than me, but not by much, and his eyes are the same kind of dark chocolate.

"What's your next class?" He asks, walking next to me. The hallway seems a little less scary now that I have someone with me. Maybe I'll have two friends now.

"Sociol-gy. Bauer." Dylan nods, waving at someone that walks by. We stop outside room 103 and he grins at me.

"Well, I'll see you later Brittany. Have fun."

"What the hell're you doing in the underclassmen hall, D?" A voice asks from behind me. Santana moves next to me and looks me over for a second before looking back at my new friend with a glare. "Please don't tell me he's trying to charm you, B." I shake my head dutifully. I don't think he was trying to charm me. He was being nice was all. I try to find my words but it takes too long.

"I wasn't doing nothing. Chill out, sis." _Oh._ So that was why they looked so much alike. They were siblings. The two continued to glare at each other and I stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Dylan broke their glaring contest and smiled at me. "See you later, Brittany. Don't corrupt her too much, S. She seems nice."

When he's out of sight, Santana grabs my hand and pulls me into the classroom with her as the bell rings. We sit next to each other at a table and she pulls out her book. Hers is covered in a colorful stretchy-fabric book cover and it makes mine look boring in its plain brown paper. I decide to decorate it when school's over.

I try to pay attention to what Ms. Bauer is saying, but Santana's sitting next to me and being way too distracting. Her hands are playing with her pen and I'm fascinated by the way I can see the bones and tendons move under her caramel skin. I'm pulled back to class when papers are passed out. The top says _My Family_ and there are lines for great-grandparents, grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles and cousins, my own name and siblings. It seems like a fun project because at the end, I get to make a poster of my family tree with pictures on it.

Then I notice that the parent blanks are labelled _Mother_ and _Father_. I look over at Santana and debate asking her what I should do. I don't have a _male_ father. Mom is my father in the biological sense, but she isn't a guy. She just has guy parts. Most people assume she gave birth to me and Mama gave birth to Erika. So I have no idea what to do.

I clear my throat quietly and poke Santana's arm to get her attention. She looks over, her pen stopping on her paper.

"Yeah?" Her face is warm, welcoming. My stomach has the warm fuzzies again and I fight them for a second so I can speak.

"Don't have...father." Her eyes study me for a minute and she nods.

"It's cool. I'm pretty sure she'll let you leave it blank." I shake my head and try again.

"I have...two moms." I bite my lip and hope my new friend doesn't think I'm strange or screwed up or something like people do sometimes. Her lips quirk to a smile and she shrugs.

"You should just put one in the dad spot then. There's a girl here in town with two dads, but she goes to McKinley. If Bauer gives you crap, go to the guidance counselor. She'll get Ms. B to allow it." I smile and thank her quietly before moving to fill out my worksheet.

When the period ends, Ms. Bauer collects our papers as we make our way out the door. Santana grabs onto my arm and follows me to my locker. I break into a smile when I realize hers is a few down from mine. I put my books into the locker and check my schedule quickly. Lima Heights High is on a blocked schedule, so I have five classes one day and five different ones the next. Third block is PE so I grab the grocery bag with my gym clothes in it.

"Who's your gym teacher?" Santana asks as she joins me. I notice she doesn't have any books and hope that she has class with me again. It's nice knowing someone in the classroom full of strange faces.

"Holtz," I reply. She grins and my heart leaps in excitement. I do an internal happy-dance as she replies.

"Me too."

* * *

The locker room starts to clear out as everyone finishes changing for PE. I stand awkwardly in front of the lockers, not really knowing what to do. I was told I'd get detention if I tried to change in one of the stalls (there were only two of them) and the showers were all open, so I can't change in there. I debate being late for class just so I can dress in an empty locker room.

"What's wrong, B?" Santana's voice asks. I spin to find her watching me from one of the wooden benches. She's dressed in neon green basketball shorts and a worn "Lima Heights Jackrabbits" t-shirt. I sigh and sit down on the bench.

"I..." I start, then stop. Do I want to risk losing one of my two friends by telling her why I was a Misfit Toy? What if she tells people? I'll probably lose my other friend if she does.

"C'mon, B. You can tell me. I promise I won't make fun of you or nothin'," I shake my head, tears starting to form in my eyes. That's exactly what I'm terrified of. She's the first friend I've had since the accident and I don't want to lose her. She's warm and caring and awesome and I'm just...I'm just a dumb Misfit Toy. The _dumbest_ Misfit Toy.

"I..." I try again, feeling my throat tighten. "I...can't change...here." Santana looks around, noticing the people still around the locker room.

"Oh," she says quietly. "Never had to change for gym class before, huh?" She stands and moves to a locker, fiddling with the lock. She pulls out a beach towel and motions for me to follow her. I grab my grocery sack and go with her into the showers. "I'm going to hold this up and block for you while you change in the corner, okay? I'm going to look the other way, so don't worry any."

My throat tightens again and more tears form in my eyes, this time out of sheer thankfulness. I hug her tightly, whispering my thanks before pulling away. Santana shrugs and moves to hold the towel up, looking out towards the other end of the shower room. I change my training bra for the sports bra Mama had gotten me and pull a t-shirt over before unbuckling my jeans and grabbing my shorts out of the bag. I check to make sure that my special compression shorts are still working out of nervous habit before pulling my new jay-blue basketball shorts over my thighs to my waist.

"'M good," I say quietly and Santana drops her arms, turning her head and smiling at me. I stuff my normal clothes into my grocery bag before walking out of the shower room with her.

"Give me your bag," she says. "I'll put it in my locker and meet you in the gym." I nod and smile, handing the bag over before following the trickle of girls into the gym. I walk over to the four teachers in gym shorts and try to figure out which one is Holtz.

"You the new kid?" A small African American man asks me and I nod, blushing slightly. He chuckles before jerking his thumb to the red-headed woman looking over a clipboard before going back to his conversation with the burly Hispanic guy and the tall dark-haired woman. I nod and continue to the woman, hoping she won't make me talk too much. Most of the teachers had been notified about my issues due to the accident by the guidance counselor Ms. Yiddle, but I still worry that some missed the email or memo or whatever teachers used.

"Hi?" I say quietly. Ms. Holtz looks up and frowns slightly before a look of realization crosses her face. _She got the memo,_ I realize and relax a bit.

"Welcome to tenth grade PE, Miss Pierce," she says, her voice airy. It sounds too nice to belonging to someone who yells at kids to do more pushups and I hope that the yelling doesn't hurt it any because it sounds wonderful. "Your classmates are over by the doors. We're going outside today." I smile and nod at her before going over to join the group of students. Santana has already joined them and motions me over to her. I move to lean against the wall with her.

"We're going out to the field today," she says, sounding slightly excited. I figure this must not happen often because the entire group looks amped up. When Ms. Holtz opens the door and leads us out behind the school, the class starts running past the dumpsters to an open field. The grass is mostly dead and there's a worn ring around a football/soccer field. The goalposts look like they're about to fall over. The ring around the field looks like a dirt track and I realize for the first time that Lima Heights is the poor side of town. Mack-Muck-Mickneely High has a real track, lights and bleachers around their football field. And a separate soccer field._ Totally not fair._

* * *

When school is over, I'm at Santana's again. We're sitting at the counter, eating pizza rolls and doing homework. I stare at my English book blankly, wishing that it made more sense. A light-skinned woman with greying hair comes into the kitchen as I pause in my attempts to understand why the poems won't rhyme. Poems are _supposed_ to rhyme.

"Hey baby girl," she says warmly before looking over at me with a smile. I realize how much Lucy looks like this lady, who I assume is Santana's mom. Their eyes are the same and so are their smiles. Santana must take after her dad. "And who is this young lady?"

"Ma, this is Brittany Pierce. B, this is my mother, Mary Margaret Lopez." My eyes widen at how long her name is before I smile and offer my hand to shake. "B doesn't talk much." Mrs. Lopez shakes my hand, holding it in both of hers while she gives her daughter a look. I glance between the two of them until Santana looks away from her mom and back to her book.

"Do you need any help with your homework, dear?" her mom asks me. I nod and she takes my book from me. She reads over the page before nodding and giving it back to me. She leaves the kitchen and I look questioningly over at Santana who shrugs.

I sigh and go back to doodling in my notebook. Unicorns are far easier than poetry crap anyways. I hear the sounds of little kids squealing and I look over into the living room. Santana's little brother and cousin are playing with plastic lightsabers. Tyler has a green one and Emma has blue. They're currently bouncing on the couch and trying to knock each other off. I watch them with a smile on my face.

"You needed help with your English?" a familiar quiet voice asks and I turn back to my homework to find Lucy standing across the counter from me. I nod and she smiles uncertainly before moving next to me. "What don't you understand?"

"What does...mean?" I ask, feeling like an idiot. Lucy nods and takes my book, looking it over for a moment.

"The assignment is to read the poem and say what you think the author is trying to say."

"Hidden message?"

Lucy hums in affirmation before writing down something in my notebook. "It's poetry, so most everything is subjective. If you think it's about how much she doesn't like dolls and wants to rip them to pieces, then it's about how she doesn't like dolls. But, I could think the same poem is about how she feels like people want too much from her and it's tearing her apart trying to please everyone." I watch her face as she keeps her eyes on the book in front of us. There's a small white scar on her throat, just below where her jaw meets her neck. I wonder what happened as I respond.

"Whoa."

"Exactly." I grin, trying to forget the scar on her throat, and reach for my pencil. "Now read it again and write down what you think it means. I'll write down what I think and we'll compare for fun."

Later when she explains her thoughts about poetry, I wonder if someone had done something to her to make her so quiet. I wonder if that something has to do with the raised white throat-scar. I wonder who would do something to such a nice girl like her. I wonder if maybe that's why she doesn't go to school with Santana and me.

But most of all, I wonder if she'll ever be okay again.

* * *

"How was your day?" Mama asks as I sit with her on the couch to watch TV. I shrug and slouch down on the worn fabric, trying not to sulk. Mom hasn't called yet and it's almost nine. "Kalle, please talk to me."

I huff and shoot her a withering look. "No."

"Your speech therapist said you needed to practice. Please just talk about something?" I groan and slide off the couch before walking to my room. Erika is reading a magazine on her bed with some whiney boy singing a love song playing in the background. I flop down on my bed and stare at the glow-in-the-dark poster of the constellations that I had tacked on the ceiling when we moved in. I know most of them by heart and can pick them out if it's dark enough outside.

"What's wrong with you?" my sister asks. I ignore her, rolling to face the wall. I don't want to talk about anything. I just want Mom to come home. Everything sucks when she's not around. Supper is too boring and Mama seems sad. Erika is too busy with cheerleading, Mama's busy with work and I'm just stuck by myself.

I open my eyes, realizing I had dozed off. I rub at them before looking over to Erika's bed. She's hugging Mama tightly and both are crying. Oh. Mom's grandmother Lise died, I realize. I feel my face fall and I get up to join them in their hug. I feel guilt in my belly as tears start to fall down my cheeks._ Maybe I shouldn't have wished so much for Mom to come home..._

* * *

** Please review and let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N:** As far as Santana accepting Brittany is concerned - Santana just thinks she has a speech impediment. She has no idea about anything else. Keep that in mind.

Hahaha. So, I'm updating again because I feel generous. I have 1- 4 done and will post four tomorrowish. After that, you'll have to wait a bit. The rest of the story is mostly written with the exception of a few random chapters (like 5).

This story is for Mia because she taught me to outline and is my bro in most things. My beta is still glee-southwriter, who is pretty much a BAMF.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_When I fall in love  
__It will be forever  
__Or I'll never fall in love_

Nat King Cole, "When I Fall in Love"

* * *

**Chapter Three**

I bounce on the balls of my feet, my hand in Mama's as we stand outside the security checkpoint at the airport in Dayton. Erika's busy with a cheerleading thing because apparently her coach doesn't allow people to leave practice unless they're dying. I'm convinced her coach is insane, but I don't think a school would hire someone who's legitimately insane to work with kids. I may be wrong on that though.

Every once in a while, there are surges of people making their way through the exit part of the security point. I figure that happens when a plane comes in and the people get off. Mama said that Mom's plane would arrive at seven-ten and it's now seven-thirty-eight. Normally I'd get bored, but right now I'm nothing but antsy.

Mom's going to finally be home from Sweden.

She'll be tired from the time changes and sad over her grandmother, but I'm still excited. I've missed her a lot over the past month and a half. It was strange not seeing her in front of wherever we were living with a cigarette when she had a bad day at school. She's always looking over paperwork at the coffee table with her reading glasses about to fall off her face while she hummed a song quietly.

Then there are the times where there's music playing on the cd player in the kitchen and she dances with Mama. They always look so happy then and Mom will dip Mama and they'll laugh. Sometimes they will kiss or Mom'll whisper something that'll make Mama smack her arm while blushing. Her not being in the apartment when I'm done with school is one of the main reasons why I've avoided going home until four-thirty or five. It's too empty without her. It's too sad without her.

Everything's been weird lately and I'm not sure it's a good weird.

"Annika!" I hear my Mama call excitedly and I look up from my ratty sneakers. There's a glimpse of a tall blonde and I grin. Mom's coming! She looks exhausted, but her face brightens as she sees us. Her backpack hangs off one shoulder and her clothes are rumpled as she takes long strides towards us. I drop Mama's hand and nearly tackle-hug Mom. Strong arms hold me close and the worn leather of her jacket smells like coffee and stale cigarette smoke.

She pulls away, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and kisses my forehead. "I've missed you, kiddo." I laugh and go with her to where Mama is waiting. She looks like she's going to cry, happy-cry I guess. Mom's arm leaves my shoulders and she puts her hands on Mama's waist. They kiss and I look away when it starts to get a bit too much for an airport. A thought enters my mind as I look over the ads on the walls. One day, I might find someone who kisses me like that and doesn't care where we are at the moment. Someone who doesn't care about everybody else thinking bad things. It makes me a bit hopeful.

"So," I hear Mom say and I look back over at them. Mom's got Mama pulled into her side and Mama's got her hand around Mom's waist. They look so happy and comfortable that I hope I find my someone soon. "Wanna get a god-awful bacon cheeseburger?" I smile widely and nod. Mama hates burger joints, so I know that this is a special occasion because Mom just got home from Sweden. And Erika's missing it. _Ha!_

* * *

"Tell me about your friend, Duck. What's her name?" Mom says as she pokes at her breakfast-for-lunch the next day. Mama's still in bed and Erika has something for cheerleading again. It's Saturday so I'm going to Santana's later that afternoon to go out for a movie and pizza with her and Lucy. I'm still in pajama pants and a tank-top, munching happily on my eggie-in-a-basket. Mom's similarly undressed, just wearing boxers and a torn-up t-shirt.

"Santana. Cousin's...friend too." Mom nods and eats a mouthful of her scrambled eggs. It's always funny to see her when she first gets up. Her hair is sticking up and half her face still has an imprint on it from the pillow. "Lucy...is quiet."

Mom raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug. "Sounds like you'd get along." I tilt my head, considering. Is that why I got along with Lucy? _Did_ I get along with Lucy? She was likable, but I hadn't really interacted with her much. Just a few times where we sat in a comfortable silence and the one time where she helped me with English.

"Kinda." I drink the last of my orange juice. "Movie 'n pizza...three." Mom nods and a yawn escapes her. I get up and clear my spot, going to put my dishes in the sink for later.

"Invite them over for dinner sometime. I'd like to meet them."

"Okay," I reply and side-hug her before heading down the hall to the shower.

* * *

The theatre is dark and I'm sitting between Lucy and Santana. Lucy is hanging onto my left arm and hand. I'm pretty sure we shouldn't have let Santana pick the movie. It's violent and loud and I'm not that big a fan of it either.

I glance to my right, noticing how absorbed she is in the movie. Her eyes are wide and the projection is reflecting off of them. My eyes follow the line of her jaw, the curve of her neck. She's beautiful.

Lucy jerking brings me out of it, probably (and thankfully) keeping awkward things from happening. Even though the movie theatre is dark, it's light enough that they'd notice a bulge in my jeans. My special compression shorts don't help much when I get hard and I'd really rather not have that happen now.

I rub Lucy's arm with my free hand. She gives me a grateful smile and I return it. It's nice to have something to distract myself from the mayhem on screen with.

We definitely shouldn't let Santana pick ever again.

I finally turn back to the screen, clenching my jaw as the main character's car gets t-boned. I don't understand how the writers figure it's believable that he could walk away from that. He barely has any injuries and I just... I remember not being able to see anything but hazy red. The blood in my eyes burned and I couldn't cry or scream. I couldn't really move. Everything hurt, everything smelled like blood and gas and burning rubber. I remember puking on myself and my mom shrieking for help. I remembered rough hands on me.

It was terrifying.

I breathe deeply, trying to clear my head and replace the smells of burnt rubber, coppery blood and vomit. They were burned into my nose so long ago but I can still smell them. My eyes water and my breathing quickens. I keep trying to breathe deeply, replace the nauseating smells with the smell of popcorn, mold and human sweat.

_Oh god, I need out of my mind._

Lucy pokes my side and I glance at her. Even in the dark, I can tell she's worried. I shake my head, smiling slightly. It's the past, it can't hurt me now. Right?  
The movie ends a few minutes later, the main character having killed the bad guys and gotten the hot girl. Santana stands, bouncing excitedly. I stretch and help Lucy to her feet.

"So, pizza?" Santana asks. I nod and Lucy quietly agrees. We make our way out of the theatre and onto the sidewalk out front. The air is getting colder as fall settles in and I love it. I can smell the leaves turning. The blood and gore in my nose is finally gone and I feel like I can breathe.

* * *

I can fall in love with Santana Lopez. In fact, I'm pretty sure I did the first time I met her, but even the way she eats pizza just makes the warm happy-fuzzy feeling grow. I never want to stop loving her if this is what it feels like. I'm going to have to ask Mom or Mama later. They'd know. They've been in love forever.

Lucy is a lot more ladylike in how she eats her pizza than her cousin is. She wrinkles her nose cutely when Santana plays with the long gooey string of cheese from her slice. I laugh and finish my own piece before grabbing another.

Santana sticks her tongue out at me and I grimace at the sight of chewed up food in her mouth. I retaliate by picking up an unwrapped straw and shooting the wrapper at her. It nails her between the eyes and she squeaks in surprise. Lucy and I burst into full-blown belly laughter.

_I can be around them forever._

"Mom wants...you...over f-for dinner," I manage to say eventually when we're figuring out how to split the bill. Our large meat-lover's is gone and it's close to nine.

"When?" Lucy asks. I shrug. I don't know how this sort of thing works. Erika used to have friends over all the time, but I think they invited themselves over. Mom never seemed to like them much and Mama just bit her lip a lot instead of talking.

"T'morrow?" I suggest. Santana laughs, finally looking up.

"Sure. I'd do anything to skip the Lopez Family Night." I smile. I'm having friends over for the first time that I can remember. Awesomeness.


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **Yet again, this is dedicated to Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta. Am finishing up five tonight, so we'll see when that gets posted.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_One: You've got to take it kind of slowly  
__Two: You've got to hurry up and make your move  
__Three: You've got to tell her that she's pretty  
__Four: You've got to be the perfect gentleman  
__When you shake the wall, you've got to make it bend  
__Yeah, you've got to show her that she's a balance beam  
__And I keep falling all around this fairy tale._

Blue October, "Balance Beam"

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to have a brain that works right. Would I be as close to Mom as I am? Would I still be quiet even if I could actually talk? Would I be treated like an adult? I'm pretty sure I'd be a "Cheerio" like Erika is if I weren't a broken Misfit Toy. I'd be a dancer like Mama and I'd be as confident as Mom.

But that sort of stuff is dumb. _Really._ If I were a Cheerio, I might not have met Santana and Lucy. I wouldn't go to Lima Heights or anything. Yeah, I'd maybe understand what's going on in Lit class better and be able to talk more than a few sentences at a time, but I think I like how things are right now.

_Mostly._

Mom and Mama are cooking dinner and I'm watching them as they tease each other. They're my favorite adults in the world. I got to pick what we're having when Lucy and Santana come over and I get to help set the table. Earlier this afternoon, I drew pictures for my friends as a present because I got bored while doing my English homework. Poetry is stupid when it doesn't rhyme, so I'm not going to read it. End of story. So, I drew pictures. Awesome pictures of trees and clouds and other stuff that was outside my window.

Mom wraps her arms around Mama and leans her head on her shoulder. I can hear her voice as she speaks quietly, but I can't tell what she's saying. The rhythm and color of her voice is comforting and I close my eyes. I'm nervous about tonight. What if my friends don't like my parents? What if my parents don't like my friends?

"You should head out to meet your friends, Kalle," Mom says. I glance at the clock and slide off my stool. I rush to the door, pulling my jacket off the coat hook. Our building doesn't have an elevator, so I race down the stairs and out through the parking lot. Once my feet meet the grass and my running makes soft thuds, I know that I can get through dinner. My parents won't not like them and my friends might feel nervous, but they'll like my parents. Right? Right._ Exactly._

I sit down on the bench by the pond and my knees bounce nervously. How do people act when their friends are over? Like was there some sort of behavioral standard or something? I sigh and kick a pebble towards the pond. I can't wait to have my friends over, but I can wait. I'm not even sure if that makes sense.  
Like, Santana is really really awesome and I want my parents to know her because if I ever get really really lucky, I kind of hope that maybe I could ask her out and she'll say yes. And then my parents would be okay with it because they know her.

And Lucy's really nice. Quiet, like me, but also not like me. She can actually talk, she just doesn't. I'm not really sure why not, because if I could, I'm pretty sure you could never get me to shut up. But whatever. The point is, I like Lucy. She's really good with reject poems and awesome and nice.

So maybe I'm excited. Like _really_ excited. I haven't been this excited since the Cubs almost went to the World Series. But then they got crunched pretty badly, so it was less excitement and more disappointment after that._ Oh god._ I hope tonight doesn't turn out like the Cubs' postseason. That would suck _so_ bad. There's a reason they haven't won since like the Middle Ages or whatever. They choke every time.

"Hey B!" A voice calls and my head jerks up. Santana and Lucy are making their way towards me. Lucy has something wrapped in tinfoil in her hands. I smile and jump off the bench, moving over to them. My nerves are mostly gone (or I just suddenly got better at ignoring them) as I lead them towards the side of the park that the apartment complexes are on.

"Did you know Lima Heights used to be its own town?" Lucy speaks up quietly. I shake my head. "It used to be called Gothemberg until the forties, but because of anti-German sentiments, was renamed Lima Heights due to being hilly. It was annexed by the City of Lima in the sixties. It was renamed Lima Heights Adjacent and considered the wrong side of the tracks. It still is, though most people just call it Lima Heights."

I stare at her in shock. How does she know that much? She sounds like a dictionary. My palms sting as I catch myself after tripping over the curb. _Ow._ I breathe in sharply as I rub my hands together, trying to get the sand out of them. Two tanned hands take mine and soothe over them, making me blush.

"You okay, B?" I nod, biting my lip. "Okay, let's go meet your parents then." I grin and let them into our building with my key, ushering them up two flights of stairs. Our apartment building smells like all sorts of food and sometimes cigarettes, but it's better than what our apartment in Chicago smelled like. _Way_ better. The one in Chicago smelled like sweat and cat pee and other things I'm not sure of. It wasn't very nice.

I knock loudly on the door and grin happily as Mama answers. "Hi, you must be Santana and Lucy! Come in, come in." I follow my friends in past Mama and sign to Mom quickly.

_Lucy is the taller one and really smart. Santana is shorter and awesome._

Mom chuckles as she moves to carry a bowl over to the table. Erica comes into the room and introduced herself before sitting down and pulling her phone out to text her friends. Lucy quietly hands Mama the foil-thing.

"Aunt Mary and I made this earlier today for your family," she says quietly. "I hope you like apple pie?"

"Apple pie is my favorite," Mom says with a grin. She sticks her hand out to shake. "I'm Annika Piersson, Brittany's mom." Santana smiled.

"Santana Lopez."

"Lucy Fabray," Lucy says quietly, looking at her feet. I catch Erika staring and I cross my eyes at her, sticking my tongue out. Just because her friends are loud and obnoxious doesn't mean she gets to judge mine for being quiet and polite and shy. And adorable. Lucy is _way_ adorable.

"I'm Laurien," Mama says and motions us over to the kitchen sink to wash our hands. I blow soap bubbles at Lucy and she giggles slightly. I can tell she's a bit more relaxed if she's by me and Santana, so I figure I'll just have her sit between us or something.

When we all sit down at the table, Mom starts passing the bowl of pasta around. I'm pretty sure picking fettuccine alfredo was an awesome idea because who _doesn't_ like hot cheese? Only lactic intolerant people, but they probably just eat extra chocolate or something.

As Mom and Mama talk to my friends and question them about school and interests, I realize how boring it is for me. There are so many things I want to say, so many jokes and ideas. But I can't. And it kind of sucks. I can feel my throat getting tight as I fight off the tears that usually come when I'm frustrated with myself.

I excuse myself quickly to the bathroom and stand there, gripping at the sink. There's one scar that's more obvious than the rest, at least to me, and I can see it poking through my hairline. The tears finally well up and start streaking down my cheeks and my breath comes out ragged and quiet. I'm such a broken Misfit Toy and I wish I weren't. I wish I could laugh and joke and talk with my family and friends instead of just sitting there with a dopey grin on my face. I don't want Santana and Lucy thinking I'm stupid. But if I try to talk with them, I'd sound stupider than I usually do because I'd be trying to talk fast and normal and I'd fail.

God I hate my mouth and my brain. _Why can't they ever work?_

I eventually calm down and splash water on my face. My eyes are paler blue than normal, a giveaway that I was crying, but I don't really care. I set my jaw and dry my face before heading back out to the dinner table. Erika's gone, probably off to hang out with her Fruit Loop friends, and Mama and Mom are still sitting there with Santana and Lucy. My friends look weird though. Lucy looks worried and Santana looks...annoyed? Alarmed? One of those words.

I groan mentally and curse my parents for probably freaking my friends out. Great. Now I won't have any. Ugh.

We finish dinner and have some of the pie Lucy made. It's really good, like awesome-good. It tastes better than ice cream. I'm pretty sure Lucy should go into a pie-making business because she'd make a million dollars. It's better than hot cheese, even. And that's_ really_ good.

I walk them back through the park to the halfway point next to the pond and Lucy hugs me suddenly. "I'm sorry you got upset," she whispers into my ear. "But I don't care if you're quiet." I grin sadly and squeeze her. So maybe my parents didn't drive Lucy away. For that, I'm grateful. She pulls away and Santana is standing next to us, looking kind of awkward.

"So..." she says. "See you tomorrow?" I nod and she hugs me real quickly. I feel warm and awesome. I still have both my friends. I try to keep the skip out of my step as I make my way back home. Maybe Monday mornings wouldn't suck so bad tomorrow.

* * *

**Review and let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

Sorry about the wait. I'm sort of stoned on painkillers and couldn't figure out how to make chapter five fit in. Then I realized if I combined five and six, it worked. So, here's the new and improved chapter five.

For my anons: Yes, Brittany is intersexed. My only thing with your comments is like actual people in real life, physical anatomy does not make the person and isn't all there is to someone. Personality and experiences and actions make a person.

The accident will be discussed soon.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_Went to school and I was very nervous  
__No one knew me, no one knew me  
__Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson?  
__Look right through me, Look right through me_

Gary Jules, "Mad World"

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Santana's waiting for me by my locker when I get to school the next morning. The butterflies in my stomach start going nuts and I can feel my ears and cheeks start to get a bit hot. I fiddle with the lock, trying to ignore the way she's looking at me. She's like studying me like I'm a book that holds the answers to everything she'd ever want to know. I'm not sure what it means, but it makes the butterflies mutate and I feel my heart beat faster.

"Last night was interesting," she says finally as I grab my books for English and sociology. I look over at her and tilt my head a bit. I have no idea what she means by that. _Interesting_ is a word that people can use in both a good and a bad way. Like, your family is awesome or that was educational or all of you are nuts. I hope it means one of the nice things. Because if she thinks we're nuts, I don't know what I'll do. Get really sad, probably. I don't know...

"Your blonde mom is a bit intense, but it's all good," she says as we head down the hall. "That alfredo was amazing. Thank your parents for me again?" I nod and grin widely as we pause outside Mrs. Wiley's classroom. She gives me another look before wrapping her arms around me. She pulls away before speaking. "Lucy starts school this Thursday, but she probably won't be in any of our classes." I nod and smile, but I'm not really sure why Lucy won't be in any of our classes. Lima Heights isn't that big a school, so it sort of doesn't make sense. But I don't question it to Santana. Probably because I'm not really sure that my mouth'll make sense and because I have a feeling it might have to do with Lucy's throat-scar.

Santana leaves and I head into English. My desk next to Dylan is empty and I sit down, pulling out my poetry book. Mrs. Wiley starts talking after taking roll and I do my best to pay attention. Maybe if I listen to her, the reject poems will start to make sense. Maybe.

The whole day is sort of a blur. I can't really tell for sure, but it sort of seems like Santana is flirting with me. But, she sort of does that with everyone, so I'm not really sure what it means that I've been added to the flirt-list. I dunno. It's nice, even though it makes my cheeks and ears burn red.

I walk home after school, pausing to throw some bread I saved from my lunch to the ducks in the pond. They quack and fight over it and I laugh quietly before continuing on my way back to the apartment. I couldn't wait for Thursday. Then both of my friends would be at school with me.

When I get into the apartment, Mom's making dinner. I drop my bag next to the door and wrap my arms around her. She chuckles and messes up my hair.

"How was school?" she asks, flipping over a hamburger on the stovetop. I grin and start signing rapidly.

_Awesome. Santana said Lucy's gonna start school with us on Thursday! It's gonna be awesome._

Mom grins and kisses my forehead. "I'm going to be teaching at your school for a while." I frown and ask why. She's a guidance counselor and I don't remember her ever teaching anything. "You'll find out." I groan and cross my arms, pouting. "I can't tell you, Ducky. You'll find out and when you do, you'll understand why."

* * *

There are Canadian geese in the pond today. I'm pretty sure they're the jerks of the bird world. They've scared the ducks off and they hiss and bite at you if you come too close. I can't wait for spring to come again so I can see my ducks. _Stupid geese should just go back to Canadia._

I look up at the sound of approaching footsteps and grin when I see Santana and Lucy walking towards me. Today is Lucy's first day at school with us and I'm kind of excited for her. I sort of think I have to be excited for her because she looks terrified right now. I can be excited enough for both of us. I skip over to them from my park bench and wrap them both in a hug.

When I pull back, I look Lucy over. She's wearing a blue dress, a white cardigan, and Mary Janes, and the only thing I can think of is that she looks adorable. Like a little girl all dressed up for her first day of school. The only thing missing is a bow in her hair.

"Cute," I say with a grin. Her cheeks burn red and she ducks her head bashfully. Santana chuckles and wraps an arm around her shoulder, giving her a quick squeeze. I pause for a moment and think. Then I start to run over to the bit of garden that has some flowers still attempting to grow in it. I pick the prettiest yellow daisy and head back over to where Santana and Lucy are. They're both watching me, sort of confused-like. I grin and move so I'm in front of Lucy. I carefully tuck her hair behind her ear with my fingers and I slide the flower into the gap between her ear and head.

When I pull away, Santana has a smile on her face, but it doesn't meet her eyes entirely. But Lucy...Lucy's blushing and beaming and she looks so happy I just want to squeal for her. It's amazing how adorable Santana's little cousin is sometimes. I receive a tentative hug and I grin, kissing her cheek. She giggles and I just want to hold onto her like you would a puppy or something. When she's happy, I feel like the entire universe should be too. It should be a holiday or something. Like the Fourth of July, only worldwide. And more often. Preferably daily.

Santana seems to not be happy with either of us, but she's trying to hide it. I'm not really sure why but I link my arm with Lucy's and we follow her down the sidewalk to Lima Heights High. The blacktop in front of the school that acts as both a basketball court and court yard is packed with people talking about whatever it is they talk about, people chasing each other around, people laughing and shouting and goofing off. I feel Lucy's grip on my arm tighten a bit, so I cover her hand with mine and squeeze gently, trying to make her feel better. I don't want her to feel scared like I was on my first day. She has four people to look out for her - me and Santana and Joel and Dylan. If anyone were mean to her, all three of the Lopez siblings would get after them. And Joel and Dylan are the stars of the football team. _Everyone_ listens to them.

But I don't know why anyone would be mean to Lucy. She's sweet and kind and gentle. Then I realize that she might get crap for being quiet and shy. That thought makes me want to cry and hug her at the same time. She's a cuddly person, just like Santana.

We make our way into the building and shove our way through the hallways to the main office. I see my Mom talking to the principal and guidance counselor. Dr. Curtis looks amused by something Ms. Yiddle says, his thin lips quirking to a smile. The weirdness of knowing my mom works in the same building I spend most of my weekdays strikes me again and I frown slightly. Lucy doesn't let go of my arm, so I follow her and Santana into the office.

Ms. Yiddle looks up, her pretty brown eyes smiling along with the rest of her face. I like Ms. Yiddle. When I first came to school, I had to meet with her to get my schedule and she was nice. For a lady who works with grumpy teenagers all day, she's pretty awesome. She gave me a doughnut, saying that the first twenty kids in her office that morning would get one no matter why they were in there. Even if they were misbehaving. Ms. Yiddle is all kinds of awesome.

"Hi, are you Lucy?" she asks. Her voice is quiet and low, really pretty. I'm pretty sure that if she would sing, it would be one of those lady voices that Mama says make her all tingly inside. Lucy nods, gripping my arm tighter. "It's good to meet you. I'm Lauren Yiddle, the guidance counselor here at Lima Heights."

Doc smiles and offers his hand for Lucy to shake. She does slowly, unsurely, and I wish I could make her more sure. Doc's a pretty cool old guy. He saw Martin Luther King Jr. when he marched all over Washington. I know this because he told me my first day when I met with him during lunch. He said he likes to meet his new students and welcome them personally because it helps him know who the troublemakers are when teachers talk about them. I'm still not sure if he was joking or not.

"I'm Dr. Matthew Curtis, but most of the kids here call me Doc," he said, his booming voice cheerful. "I'm in charge of this place, so you let me know if you need anything." I could tell Lucy was uncomfortable and I think the adults noticed too because Doc said something about grindstones and hooks before leaving. I see Mom straightening up, her back making a popping noise.

"Hey Lucy," Mom says, a smile on her face. "We've met before, but I was just Kalle's mom before. I'm Annika Piersson and I'll be your teacher until you mainstream. Then I'll be the school's second guidance counselor." I can tell Lucy relaxes a bit and I'm glad. I can see Santana's anxious face calm a bit. Maybe having my mom work at my school won't be a bad thing.

"Hi," Lucy says. Ms. Yiddle seems relieved that everything's okay. Her shoulders don't look so tense and her eyes are even more happy than normal.

"You and Mrs. Piersson are going to work in L-1 together. You can either eat lunch with her there or join your cousin and friend for lunch in the cafeteria and commons."

"Or you could join us," Mom says. I breathe in slowly, not sure I want to spend lunch with my Mom. She's my favorite adult, but I don't wanna be seen as a baby. Even though our last names are different, we still look alike. Like freaky alike. Like Dr. Evil and Mini-Me kind of alike. Except we're almost the same height. But still.

The bell rings and I can feel Lucy jerk a bit in surprise. Ms. Yiddle tells Santana and I that we need to go to our classes and that she'll make sure that we don't get in trouble for spending lunch outside of the cafeteria and commons. Santana pauses and hugs Lucy tightly before moving to the door. She pauses and waits for me as I squeeze Lucy's hand.

"Mom's nice," I say quietly to her, trying to reassure her before I leave. The lost puppy look on her face makes me sad, but I know that Mom'll cheer her up. Mom's kind of awesome sometimes. I walk with Santana to our lockers and I know that both of us are kind of sad to leave Lucy behind. She's lost and scared and I'd rather be hugging her than going to get my books. Normally I love going to AP Physics, but today I just don't. I don't want to work on our egg-drop projects or look at all the cool pictures in our books or listen to him talk about velocity.

Santana has the same look on her face that I'm pretty sure is on mine. She has Spanish, which I don't really understand why she takes it. She already speaks Spanish, but I guess it's an easy grade or whatever.

I open my locker after a few failed attempts with my combo and grab my physics and pre-calc books. Santana leans on the locker next to mine and I can tell she wants to say something. I tilt my head, inviting it - whatever _it_ is.

"Um, B, I've gotta tell you something. And I'm pretty sure you'll be okay with it, but I figured I should tell you. Because Mom thinks something's up with us and there isn't but she's convinced we're making lady babies or whatever..." she pauses in the middle of her rambling and I'm not entirely sure what she's getting at. The blush on her cheeks is cute though. I link our pinkies together and wait as she finds words. I understand not having words not wanting to come out of your mouth. Mine hardly ever do.

"B, I'm gay." _Oh._

I shrug and turn back to my locker, hiding the laughter that's trying to come out of me. Why was she so nervous? My parents are gay and I'm...well, I like everyone, so I'm at least part-gay. I turn back to her, closing my locker, when I can keep from laughing at her nervousness.

"I...like ev-one," I say with a shrug.

"You're a good person, B. Of course you like everyone," Santana says, a small smile on her face. I shake my head, trying to think of how to explain it better.

"I...like girls...and boys," I say with a smile. Santana pauses and her eyes widen before she laughs.

"Nice!" she says and we start walking down the hall to the staircase. "So, how about that Lena Headey?" I laugh as we start up the stairs._ Awesomeness._

* * *

When school is done, I race to meet Santana at our lockers so we can go find Lucy and Mom. We had eaten with them in the little classroom at the back of the library and helped them decorate the walls a bit so it'd look less lonely. I'm pretty sure my unicorn drawing was the best thing we hung up, but Mom's poster of the Solar System is a close second. Nothing except unicorns could ever beat the awesome of space.

Santana's got her backpack ready already so I grab my things as fast as I can so we can push through the crowd together. The library's empty like always, not even the librarian hangs around much. Our feet echo and the lights flicker a bit, but it isn't that big a deal. The big deal is in the classroom in the back. That's where things actually happen.

Mom and Lucy are packing up for the day and I look around. They've decorated the place some more and there are notes and drawings on the old chalkboard. The chalkboard is black, unlike the green ones in the rest of the school, and there are five white lines drawn through the one side in a repeating pattern. I'm not really sure what they're for, but it's kind of cool. You can tell they've been there forever. I'm not sure if they're permanent or what, but it's cool either way.

"Bring one of your own books in tomorrow," Mom says. "We'll talk about it and you can do a project on it if you want." Lucy nods and I'm happy to see that she's relaxed, no longer scared or worried. Good. Comfortableness looks good on her. Mom walks over to me and hugs me, pulling away and makes a quick sign of _I love you_ with her fingers. I smile and sign back _me too_.

"Kalle and I need to go now, but I look forward to seeing both of you tomorrow," Mom says. I groan inwardly. I have to go see the stupid brain-doctor and speech therapist. I_ really_ don't like either of them. I don't get why I have to go. The brain-doctor hasn't been able to fix me and speech therapy hasn't helped any beyond the initial improvements. Sometimes I debate going back to signing all the time. It's easier and I wouldn't have to go see a speech therapist anymore. But I don't think I could get away with avoiding neurologists. I'm stuck with forever seeing them._ Ugh._


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_I am afraid of crossing lines_  
_I am afraid of flying blind_  
_Afraid of inquiring minds_  
_Afraid of being left behind_  
_I close my eyes, I think of you_  
_I take a step, I think of you_  
_I catch my breath, I think of you_  
_I cannot rest, I think of you_

Brandi Carlile, "Looking Out"

* * *

**Chapter Six**

I walk happily next to Lucy and Santana as we head to the Lopez house after school. There's a football game tonight against the Belleville Tigers and they've invited me to eat dinner with them before we all go. I'm excited. I've never been to a football game before, so this should be awesome. Especially since I'm going with my two friends to watch my other friend squish people on the football field.

It's been two weeks since Lucy started at Lima Heights and she's doing awesomely. She talks a bit more now and she's funny when she wants to be. Eating lunch with her and Santana and Mom is my favorite thing to do.

We take our shoes off when we get to the house and there's so much noise. Lucy looks slightly uncomfortable, but mostly like she's used to it. Little Emma comes running to her and pulls on her hand, babbling about Yoda. Tyler rushes them both and starts helping Emma pull her older sister along. Santana laughs at them and I grin. A tall, tan man appears behind her and covers her eyes.

"Don't be a jerk!" she shrieks, elbowing him in the gut and turning around. She grins widely and hugs him tightly. "Gibson!" He hugs her back.

"Who's the blonde?" he asks, a warm smile on his face. Santana pulls back and grabs my hand, pulling me closer.

"This is Brittany Pierce. B, this is my oldest brother Gibson." I smile shyly, offering my hand for him to shake. He ignores it and pulls me in for a hug. I stand awkwardly and Santana chuckles next to me. "Personal boundaries, Gibs. Jesus."

"Shut up, S. I'm being nice to your future wife. Deal with it." My jaw drops slightly. _What?_

"She's not my...she's not my future wife, G! Shut up!" Santana's face is kind of darker and I know that mine is sort of red. Does everyone but her know that I sort of love her? "She's my best friend." Her brother nods, but there's a smirk on his face. I wish I were her girlfriend, but I don't think that's gonna happen. She flirts with me, but that's about it.

"Have you met Papí yet?" He asks. I shake my head no. He's usually been working when I've been over. I follow Gibson and Santana into the kitchen where it looks like a hurricane of crazy hit. Everyone's doing something - Mrs. Lopez is cooking and arguing with Joel, Dylan is setting the table and an older man that I assume is Mr. Lopez is piling blankets and a cooler next to the door to the garage.

"S is home!" Gibson calls. Mrs. Lopez looks up and smiles at us. Mr. Lopez moves over and holds his hand out to me.

"You must be Brittany. Little Carla's told me so much about you." I look between the two of them, sort of confused. Santana's face is sort of dark again and her dad suddenly sports a smirk. "Santana Carla Lopez. Her mother wouldn't let me name her Carla Santana, so I swapped it around. Like Carlos Santana, except backwards and girlier!"

"And then you slept on the couch for a few months, right Joe?" He grumbles under his breath, looking over to his wife and sticking his tongue out like a little kid. "It's good to see you again, Brittany. I hope you like chili."

"Yep," I say, nodding. Mrs. Lopez smiles and goes back to the pot on the stove, stirring it a few times before calling out that dinner is ready. Little feet start racing in and the two seven year olds sit down next to each other on the bench, bouncing up and down. Lucy sits next to her sister and I smile as I'm invited to the crowded table. I like the Lopez family. They're loud and warm and crazy and it's a welcome break from my quiet one.

They say _grace_ and then everyone starts passing food around. There's cornbread and chili and green stuff in a bowl and extra Tabasco in case the soup isn't hot enough. I can feel my face burn red as I eat and I know I don't need more hot sauce. Holy crap! Everyone goofs around and laughs and teases. When dinner's over, everyone takes their dishes to the sink and rinses them while Joel loads them into the dishwasher. Then there's a stampede to get shoes and we all grab something from the pile by the garage.

I've never ridden in the back of a pickup before and it's both nerve-wracking and cool. I can feel the wind on my face and in my hair and every bump makes me feel like I'm sort of flying. I wish I could ride this way all the time. We pull into the gravel parking lot at Lima Heights High and pile out, carrying our stuff in through the gate. Mr. Lopez has a card that lets their family in for free and he pays the $5 for me, saying it's a treat for the friend of his older two girls. I grin shyly and follow them up into the bleachers. Hawg Creek Field could use some fixing, but that would involve getting money from someone. Even if our team wins like all the time, nobody wants to give the school money for a new field or bleachers or lights or whatever. Not cool.

I sit in between Santana and Lucy, happy when I get part of the blanket. The bench is freezing and I'm pretty sure if I lick it, my tongue'll get stuck like that kid in that movie with the lamp post. That would suck, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't scream or cry as much as he did. But I'm older and hopefully smarter, so I don't think I'd get my tongue stuck to something...

The game starts after the anthem is sung and Santana's hand finds mine under the blanket. I sort of fell in love with them. They're kind of cool to watch - I don't think I've ever watched someone's hands move before, so maybe this is stupid to say, but I sort of think her hands are the coolest hands I've ever seen.

I don't really get what goes on in the game, so I just mostly grin widely when Santana freaks out over something. Lucy's quiet next to me, so I grab her hand with my spare, trying to cheer her up a bit. I don't like it when she's freaked out and I can sort of tell that she's freaked. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be flinching so much otherwise. When the game's halfway done and people are watching the bandgeeks do something on the field that looks sort of like they're pretending to be a snake or really big conga line or something, I feel Santana's hand leave mine.

When the game starts back up, I can feel her place it on my thigh. I bite my lips slightly as she moves it up, squeezing slightly. I can never understand how her hands are always so warm, even when it's freezing out, but that's kind of not my main concern right hand's sort of awkwardly high up on my thigh and it's distracting and I can feel blood rushing to places I really wish it wouldn't rush when I'm sitting on the bleachers surrounded by people and holding her little cousin's hand. That and she has no idea that I'm a Misfit Toy and I really don't want her to find out like this. I'm not sure I ever want her to find out because she's a lesbian and obviously I wouldn't be someone she would go after and she'd probably stop flirting with me or freak out or...I don't think it'd turn out good.

I grab her hand with mine and pull it off of my thigh, entwining my fingers with hers and trying to think about whatever I can that's totally gross. I remember the movie we watched in biology last year about that lady having a baby and I feel my stomach churn uneasily and I know that I'm not going to be hard anymore if I keep thinking about it. That is the only good thing to ever come out of watching that creepy video...

The game ends and we win and Santana hugs me tightly, screaming something about Jackrabbits and stupid cats getting skinned which sort of freaks me out. Why would you do that to a cat? But she grabs my hand and pulls me with her into a sort of dance to whatever the bandgeeks are playing. It's awkward and funny and I'm giggling by the time we're done.

Joel and Dylan come up to where we are, still in their football uniforms and high five the two little ones and say a quick hello to everyone else. They're gonna get a ride with someone from the team so we can leave and get warmed up sooner. Mr. Lopez says that he'll meet us at the truck and disappears into the crowd.

The back of the pickup isn't as fun now as it was. I think it might start snowing or something which is crazy because it's only the last week of September. It shouldn't be snowing yet. That's too soon, but it's Ohio so anything's fair game. We pile in and Mr. Lopez gets in, something under his arm. He drives quickly to the house and we all go inside for hot cocoa and the cake that Mrs. Lopez was saving for after the game.

We start the party without Joel and Dylan because they're at a team thingabop. I grin widely at the chocolate frosting. I wish she would've just put some in a bowl or something for me so I could put it on graham crackers. It's not like cake isn't awesome, it's just I love frosting on just about anything.

"So," Mr. Lopez says. "I got a present for the newest member of our family." Santana looks at me for a second before looking at her dad. I stare at him, confused. "Since you go to Lima Heights and I hope that you'll continue going with us to games, I decided you needed your very own Jackrabbits hoodie." He hands me a paper bag and smiles widely. I reach in and pull out a bright blue hoodie and I feel tears forming at the corner of my eyes. I think I love Santana's family.

"Joe!" his wife says, sort of like she's getting after him. "Why do you always have to steal my ideas?" She tosses another brown bag my way and I find a beanie inside. Santana laughs and I sniffle slightly. Her parents are so cool.

"Welcome to the family, B," she says, putting the beaning on my head and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah," Gibson says. "You're sort of stuck with us now."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_I hear you on the radio_  
_You permeate my screen, it's unkind but_  
_If I met you in a scissor fight_  
_I'd cut off both your wings on principle alone,_  
_On principle alone._

Incubus, "Megalomaniac"

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

I fidget nervously with my new hoodie. It's blue with a silver screen-printed jackrabbit on the front, letters boldly saying "LIMA HEIGHTS JACKRABBITS - WE RUN CIRCLES AROUND THE COMPETITION". My new beanie is over my ears so I don't freeze. Hopefully it helps...

Mom and Mama are coming with us to the game tonight. It's at Mickeedee, so we're going to have to sit in the visitor section. Even though Erika goes to school here, our parents are sitting with me because Mom teaches at Lima Heights. Something about "representing". I'm not entirely sure, but I'm excited.

The game starts in twenty minutes. It's the Divisional Championship. Apparently our schools are rivals or something. I've never seen anything like what's going on right now. The entire stadium is packed and the Mickeelee side is doing the wave and they're all covered in red and black. Our side is blues and greys, though there are a few boys up in the front in body-paint. They look like they're having a great time even though they're freezing. There are band kids playing music and people shrieking and it has to be the most hyper crowd I've ever seen.

I'm sitting on a bleacher bench, Santana to my right and Lucy on my left. Our parents are further down with Gibson, Emma and Tyler. The oldest Lopez kid lives in Cleveland, but he drives back to Lima for every single one of his siblings' games. I think he's awesome.

Santana's hand is on my knee and she's talking to the kid next to her. I look over at Lucy and smile at her. I don't think she likes crowds much, so I take her hand in mine to make her feel better. She glances at me and raises an eyebrow. I shrug, not sure what to say.

The speakers crackle to life and the echo-y announcer asks everyone to stand up for the National Anthem. I take my hat off and stick my left hand over my chest. Cold fingers tug my hand down and pull my right up to place over my left side.

"Wrong side, Brittany," Lucy says quietly as the crowd starts singing. I nod and listen to how most people can manage to keep their voices on-key. That's the benefit of well-known songs. Everyone knows them.

_Duh._

When we all sit again, I can feel Santana scoot closer to me than she was before and she wraps her blanket over my lap. I can feel the warm fuzzies in my stomach again and I fight the grin that's pulling at my lips. I take the extra she gave me and offer it to Lucy, feeling bad that she wasn't offered it by Santana. She scoots closer to me and I place it over her lap. There's a rush of noise as the kick-y guy kicks the ball and the players start running. You can almost hear the helmets crack over the noise, but you have to listen closely. One of the blue guys, a Lima Heights guy, is running but a giant red dude smooshes him into the ground. I wince.

Football has to be the most painful sport ever.

After a while, we have seven points and they have three. I'm not really sure why scoring once gets you seven points, but I know not to bring it up. Last time I tried, Erika just gave me her _Are you stupid?_ look. I don't think Lucy and Santana would treat me like a moron, but I don't want to risk it. They're my friends and I don't want them thinking I'm dumb. That would suck.

Santana screams and cheers throughout the game and I hold onto Lucy's hand. She jerks every time the crowd starts and I want to keep her calm. I'm not sure if she's scared or just surprised. But I think if it were just her being surprised, she'd stop being surprised after a while because they keep screaming and shouting and cheering and chanting. But it's okay, I guess. I get freaked out sometimes too.

Cars aren't really fun anymore.

There's not much time left in the game and everyone's on their feet, Lucy and I included. Lima Heights is winning by a lot and one of our blue guys is running with the ball again. Five red guys chase after him, but they're kind of fat and look like they're going to fall over or die or something. He passes the orange cone-things and the crowd screams. I wave my hands in the air, celebrating with them. We might be the poor school, but we're way awesomer.

Bodies start moving out onto the field and I'm carried out with them. People are cheering, singing, laughing. Everybody's electrocuted and it's fun. Green confetti starts hitting people and I'm sort of confused. I'm not sure why the Mickeedee kids are helping us celebrate since they lost, but they are. Then they start screaming at us and I can tell that people are getting angry. Then there's one voice that makes everyone pause.

"Go back to Mexico, you fucking Beaners!"

Lima Heights people seem to explode with fury and there's fist fights and I start to get freaked out. What are Beaners and why is everyone so mad? Why are we still getting pelted with green graffiti? I bend over and pick a piece of it up. It's a green note card.

A _green card._

_Oh._

I look up and try to find my sister, hope that she has nothing to do with this. I don't know what I'd say to her or if I could even look at her if she is. She's my sister and I go to Lima Heights. And _we're_ immigrants. Just because we're the pale kind doesn't make us any better or any worse. We're _people_. Why are people so hurtful? This is like those mean old white people on that news station. I hope Erika isn't involved with this. I don't think I can look at her if she is.

I can't see her in the mob and I'm starting to get pushed away from the middle of the field. I let myself go with, knowing that our side of the stadium is probably safer anyways. I finally make my way up into the bleachers. Mama is talking to Mr. Lopez and they both look angry. I'm slightly worried when I notice that Mom isn't there. I guess since she's a teacher, she's down trying to get kids to calm down. Convincing them to make good decisions and not beat each other up is a part of her job during the day. I figure it's the same at football games too. Lucy is standing there next to Emma and Tyler. I don't know where Santana and Gibson went, but I guess they're both in the crowd too.

I hope that they don't get arrested as police start swarming the field. I move next to Lucy and she grabs my arm with both her hands. She's trembling and I feel worried. "They're going to say this is all our fault," she whispers and I frown. "They're going to say we're gangbangers and we're starting problems. They're going to blame it all on us."

"Why?" I manage. I don't get it. The Mickeedee kids started it. Why would we get blamed?

"Because we have the immigrant population and nobody likes immigrants lately," she says. "McKinley is a bunch of middle and upper class white kids with an occasional not-white kid thrown in. They'll almost always look better to the press and the police."

_Oh._ I felt my stomach sour at the thought. Was everywhere like this? Did everyone dislike each other for stupid reasons? Why did it matter where you were from or what color your skin was? _Why couldn't people just live?_

I pulled Lucy into a hug and rubbed her back. Hopefully she was wrong. Hopefully we weren't gonna be the bad guys and the real bad guys would get in trouble. But, the sad part was that the real bad guys never seemed to get in trouble if they looked like good guys and apparently the good guys were white European-looking types with money.

_Lame._


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

Sorry for the wait! Life got insane and I had mad writer's block. Therefore, I'm giving y'all three chapters tonight (though this might count as only half a chapter...)!

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_Where are we going now?  
__It doesn't matter at all  
__A stolen kiss and the sound of your voice  
__We had to go, couldn't stay;  
__Now we're so far away  
__The open road and the stereo noise_

Mark Hoppus & Richard Gibbs, "Until the Stars Fall from the Sky"

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

"Come on," Santana says, pulling on my hand. It's the week after the championship game and the whole town is still angry over it. Lucy was right. The news was trying to make the kids from Lima Heights look like a bunch of thugs and people from Lima Heights were avoiding shopping anywhere but stores within Lima Heights. If they were owned by people who were in any way connected to students from McKinley, nobody went there. My sister started avoiding wearing her Cheerios stuff around home, not wanting to start a fight. Mom even considered having her transfer to Lima Heights just so she wouldn't have to worry. But Erika is refusing, claiming that her Fruit Loops are going to get her into college or whatever.

I follow Santana into a classroom where a bunch of other students are standing around. A bigger girl is standing at the front of the room, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She's wearing a bright yellow shirt and it makes me think of lemon meringue pie. Delicious. She moves over to the projector thingy and flips it on. There's a weird boxy-looking thing with labels and little stick people drawn on it.

* * *

On Sunday night, there's a group of about fifteen of us sneaking into McKinley High. My parents think that I'm sleeping over at the Lopez house. I am, but I'm not right now. The guys are wearing stolen McKinley high hoodies, the hoods pulled over their heads to hide their faces. It's sort of funny that for such a rich school, they only have a few security cameras by the main office.

Santana and I are in charge of getting into the lockers of the McKinley football players while the guys pour baby oil all over the handrails and stairs. Lucy runs back and forth, giving us the empty bottles to stash in the lockers.

I've never been in a school past dark and it's sort of creepy. The hallways echo and there are weird shadows all over. I wonder if this school is haunted. Like, they sold their soul for money and now it's a creepy place that nobody wants to be in. But that wouldn't make sense, so never mind.

Santana stands next to me, studying her fingernails. I lean against the locker, watching her. She's so pretty sometimes. Like, it's crazy how pretty she is. I wish I could just tell her that I like her and have her like me too in spite of me being a Misfit Toy. Because that'd be awesome and there are days where I really just want to kiss her or hold her hand or something. I dream about her sometimes and it makes me ache. Not just in a horny way, but my chest aches and I really just wish it'd happen. I wish she'd like me too. It'd be awesome.

"Hey B?" she says, looking up at me. I blush slightly, caught staring. She moves closer to me until she's barely a couple inches from me. Her hands grab my hips and she pulls me into her. I always thought her lips would be soft, but it's sort of insane how warm and..._whoa._

"Someone's coming!" one of the guys says. I can hear people running towards us and Santana pulls away from me, shoving the last of the baby oil bottles into a locker before shutting it. She tugs on my hand, dragging me towards the exit with her. The group runs off in different directions and I follow Santana and Lucy as we trail the two Lopez brothers to their car a few blocks away.

Santana starts laughing as we slow down and her brothers get in, starting the car. "Badass." Lucy smiles, her eyes bright with excitement. We pile in the backseat and Santana takes my hand in hers, her fingers playing with mine. I wish tonight wouldn't end. I wish the kiss wouldn't have ended.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

I should also probably mention that I now have an AO3 account under the same name just in case FFnet starts hating on me.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_Can you lie next to her_  
_and give her your heart? Your heart_  
_As well as your body_  
_And can you lie next to her_  
_and confess your love? Your love_  
_as well as your folly_  
_And can you kneel before this king_  
_and say, "I'm clean, I'm clean?"_  
_But tell me now where was my fault_  
_in loving you with my whole heart?_

Mumford & Sons, "White Blank Page"

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

My entire body feels like it's tingling as I sit behind Joel and Dylan in their car, speeding to the house. My face feels hot and my heart is racing and I feel like I can do anything. I want to scream, to jump and dance. I feel _alive._

Santana's hand is in mine, her thumb stroking my knuckles and I'm still sure that I fell in love with her because of her hands. I want to know if she feels as awake as I do, as wired and antsy. Lucy's sitting on her other side and she looks just as excited as I am, her leg bouncing up and down. Santana has a giant grin on her face, so I guess she feels the same.

We climb out of the car when Joel pulls into the worn driveway and the guys disappear upstairs. We've claimed the basement for the night, having thrown our stuff down like those flags Christopher Columbo used in Mexico. Santana and Lucy pull the one couch out into a bed and I help Lucy make it as Santana disappears back upstairs. I pull my hoodie off and rub my hands over my bare arms. Maybe a tank top wasn't the best idea.

"If you watch a movie, I'm going to sleep," she says quietly. I nod and move over to her, pulling her into a hug before helping her make up the other couch that doesn't pull out. She always has a haunted look in her eyes, like she's seen too many scary movies and they now live in her brain permanently. It worries me, but I have a feeling she'll be alright.

Santana comes down the stairs and flops onto the pullout-couch. I smile and stand awkwardly as Lucy claims the other couch. Am I supposed to sleep on the floor? Santana looks over at me and pats the space next to her. I smile nervously as I sit down beside her. I'm not entirely sure that sharing a bed with her is a good idea, but if it's what she wants I guess it's okay.

I lie back slowly, hesitantly, and Santana wraps an arm around my middle. Her head rests on my shoulder and I freeze for a moment before relaxing. It felt nice, comfortable. Was this how my parents felt when lying with each other? Safe, warm, butterfly-ish? I wasn't sure. I would have to ask Mom later.

"I can't wait to see what happens to those idiot rich kids tomorrow. Bet it'll be on the news or something. All their dumbass football jocks getting suspended for being fuckwads," Santana laughs. Her breath is hot against my bare shoulder and it makes my stomach-butterflies have babies. Holy crap. "Tonight'll make them regret ever messing with Lima Heights."

I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. She's adorable when she's trying to sound badass. I mean, she's cute (and kinda hot) all of the time, but when she's trying to be tough...like an armadillo! She's an armadillo! Or a porcupine! I'm not really sure. I just know she's cute and adorable and she is badass even though she doesn't talk like it. One day I'll figure out an animal for her. Until then she can just be cuddly.

"Do you ever wonder what it'll be like when we're out of high school?" she asks quietly. Lucy is asleep by now. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna go to college and I'm dragging Luce with me because she's too smart to stick around in Lima forever. And you're going with too, right?"

I don't know how to answer, so I try to shrug and fail because she's on top of me. "Maybe."

"Well, I want you to. You're a pretty awesome person, B." Santana shifts, propping herself up on an arm to look at me. I feel my heart start to pound as her dark-chocolate eyes study my face. She's so beautiful, and it makes me nervous and happy and excited and just...in awe. She's awesome. She's like one of those goddesses from Greenland or whatever. Just _amazing._ I can see her face start to get closer to mine and I gulp. Why is she doing that? I will my body not to react, hope it doesn't. She's too close.

Her lips meet mine for the second time and I melt. My hands touch her shoulders gently, reverently. She's so soft and pretty and good smelling and... Yeah, I'm in love with her. After a moment that feels both too short and forever, she pulls away and I stare as she rolls over, facing away from me. Her cheeks were dark, so I guess she thinks she didn't do the right thing? I'm not really sure. Santana's one of those people who doesn't make much sense. She hides her feelings sometimes and I wish she wouldn't because figuring her out would be so much easier.

I shift, realizing that the reason she might not be making any sense has nothing to do with her. At least, not right now. My brain doesn't have any food because all the blood that brings food to it is...well, it's down_ there_ and not in my brain. _Shit._ I'm not really sure how I didn't notice because I'm throbbing like mad, but I'm glad I just did. Because if I accidentally rolled over towards Santana, she'd feel it. And that might not turn out well.

I think she likes me. I'm pretty sure you only kiss people who aren't family if you like them and she kissed me. And she's always blushing and being super cute when she's around me so I'm really really sure she likes me. Which is awesome because I like her too.

Well, actually, I'm in love with her. But same difference. You like people before you love them, so it's totally cool. She can love me too.

I kind of want to ask her to be my girlfriend, but I'm not sure if I should. I'm a Misfit Toy and she doesn't know that and what if we kissed and she found out because she _didn't_ pull away like she did tonight? Then she'd find out and I'm not sure she'd want to be my girlfriend anymore. She's gay. Gay girls don't like penises. They think they're gross. So, I guess I can't ask her out. But I can still love her, right?

Right. Because _all you need is love_. That's what the Beatles guy says.

* * *

I feel really warm and comfortable and I don't want to open my eyes because I'm pretty sure I won't be warm or comfortable when I do. It always seems to work that way because I get restless so then I move and then it's not so warm in my cocoon because my leg is sticking out or something. So I don't open my eyes or move or anything. But then I realize that I'm pressed up against something warm and alive and I'm hard again. I crack an eye open to find myself spooning Santana._ Shit._

"Mmmm," she mumbles, shifting slightly. I bite my lip as her butt moves against me. A not-so-nice feeling accompanies the usual jolt-of-awesome that happens when _I_ touch myself. "Morning, B." She shifts again, then I hear and feel her freeze. A slight rustling meets my ears and I feel a hand slide over my front and her hand touches me._ Oh fuck._

_"Please_ tell me that's a roll of Certs in your pocket," she says, sounding kind of freaked out. I move my mouth, hoping that words will come out. Hope that my stupid brain and mouth will help me for once. They don't. Santana sits up and pulls the blankets off of me. I feel my blood run cold as she sees my morning wood and her jaw drops.

"What the fuck?" She jumps out of the bed and her faces gets all angry and I'm starting to get terrified. I _knew_ this would happen. I _knew_ it. "What the fuck is that, Brittany? Seriously. You have a – a fucking _dick?"_ Her body is trembling and I know I'm in trouble. Oh god, she hates me. I know I'm not hard anymore. There's no way I could be. I'm too terrified. The butterflies in my stomach that usually flutter when she's around are dead, eaten by all the acid in my stomach and I feel like I'm going to hurl.

Santana moves over to where my backpack is and picks it up before throwing it at me and screaming. "Get the fuck out!" I scramble to my feet and grab my hoodie from the floor. I know that Lucy must've woken up and now she's probably watching us. I hope she doesn't hate me too. I don't know if she knows, but I hope she doesn't. I don't want to lose her too. I like her a lot.

Santana slaps me when I grab my backpack and my hand goes to my cheek. I feel tears start to well up in my eyes and I scramble up the stairs out of the basement, tripping along the way. As I pull on my shoes, I start cursing myself. I'm such a Misfit Toy, I can't even climb stairs right.

The sun's out and the sky's blue as I make my way home, but all I can think of is greyness. Everything's dark and sad and I'm the Queen of the Misfit Toys. I can hear a dog wailing a few blocks away and I want to howl with him. We're sad and broken and Misfits. I don't want to go home and see my parents being happy and my sister being a normal person.

I wish Mom and I could go find the other Misfit Toys and just live on our Island so I wouldn't have to hurt or be scared or not like myself. I just want to not be me.

I'm a broken person, a Misfit Toy and I just wish someone could come fix me. I wish I was old enough and had the money to get that surgery I read about on the computer. Then I wouldn't have to be a Misfit Toy. I could just be a normal girl and not have to wear special shorts under my clothes and worry about seeing things that made me go all hot. I wouldn't be a screwed up person.

I wish I was normal.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

I should also probably mention that I now have an AO3 account under the same name just in case FFnet starts hating on me.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry_  
_You don't know how lovely you are_  
_I had to find you, tell you I need you_  
_Tell you I set you apart_  
_Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions_  
_Oh, let's go back to the start_

Coldplay, "The Scientist"

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

My bed is normally a warm cocoon that I never want to leave in the morning. It's all cuddly and snuggly and comfortable and safe, but today it's not. Today, my bed doesn't feel warm or comfortable or safe. My thoughts are in here too, with my feelings and my memories of her voice and her face. In here, in my bed, I no longer feel snuggly. I feel trapped.

This is one of those times where I wish I weren't stuck in my head all the time. I practically live inside myself and right now it's the worst thing ever. Because her voice and her face and her horror are in me too. They're burned into my eyes and my ears and my heart. I want to cry, but I know that crying won't make it any better. She's gay, like really gay and I'm not normal. I'm a Misfit Toy and I scared her on accident.

I wish I were normal.

Eventually I force myself out of bed once my alarm clock starts blaring. I grab my clothes and head over to the bathroom, dropping them on the sink and starting the shower. As I start stripping, I sigh. I am _so_ not in the mood to deal with my near-daily morning surprise right now. I growl as I glare at my dick, hating how it points back up at me. It mocks me sometimes. Like, it never wants me to be happy or have friends or something.

Granted, there are times where it makes me very happy, but right now it's not gonna happen. I just...I can't today. Not after yesterday. Not after...

I groan and flip the shower to cold before getting in and flinching at the icy water. As I scrub at my skin harshly, I can feel myself start to shrink and I breathe out in relief. Now I just have to face her today.

Great.

* * *

"Hi," I say quietly, standing by my locker. Santana's getting books and looks hurried. I don't want to interrupt her, but I need to know. I need to know that we're okay, that we'll still be friends. I can deal with being in love with her and not having her love me back if we're still friends. She's my best friend (though Lucy is a close second) and I want to keep her for forever.

Santana looks over at me and I don't know what she's thinking or feeling. She has that face on, the one that makes me think of Lady Gaga. I'm not really sure what she has to do with me not being able to figure Santana out, but whatever. Santana makes me think of Lady Gaga songs right now.

"Are...we 'kay?" I ask, hating how my mouth skips half a word and how I have to force it. I hate my mouth.

Actually, I might just hate my entire body today.

"Yeah, sure," she says, closing her locker. "We're good. See you later, B." I wrap my arms around myself in a hug as she walks away quickly. I want us to be good, I want us to be okay. But I'm not entirely sure what her Lady Gaga face means. Are we okay? Are we not okay? She said we were. But I'm still not sure.

I turn back to my own locker and grab my books for English and sociology. Hopefully we're good because we're working on our family tree projects together in second block. Because if we're not good, it might not be comfortable. It'd be like...I don't know. It'd just suck is all.

I head to English Lit, hoping she didn't tell Dylan. He's nice to me and lets me look over his notes when I don't get it. Lucy borrows them sometimes when she helps me with my homework. I wonder if she knows that English is the only class I ever really need help in. Probably not. Most people think I'm an idiot because I can't really talk. But sometimes I agree with them. Not being able to talk is pretty dumb.

I sit down in my desk and watch Mrs. Wiley write on the board as everyone else starts finding their seats. When Dylan finally comes in, he looks around and takes an empty desk next to one of his football friends. My heart sinks and I fight the feeling. Maybe Santana didn't tell him. Maybe he just wants to talk about the prank Saturday night. Maybe everything's fine. Maybe me and Santana really are okay.

A stack of paperback books is passed out and I run my fingers over the worn cover._ To Kill a Mockingbird._ I groan internally. Great, another book about dying animals. Wasn't _Where the Red Fern Grows_ horrible enough? _Both_ the dogs died and it was freaking sad because they were the boy's only friends and then he just had nobody. I feel tears starting to well in my eyes. _Fuck._ I hope no animals die because I really can't deal with people making fun of me when I start to cry. Just thinking about it is making me tear up. I don't even want to think about what'll happen when they actually die.

I don't really listen when Mrs. Wiley talks. She's boring and her voice is flat and I'm busy anyways. I'm trying to come up with reasons that me and Santana are really okay and to think otherwise is just dumb. By the time the bell rings, I only really have one reason.

_Because we have to be._

I walk to sociology slowly, hoping that she still means it. That we're okay. I sit in my desk at the back of the room and open my book, pulling my family tree project out. When the bell rings but Santana doesn't sit next to me, I look up to find her sitting near the front by the window. My stomach starts feeling both icy-cold and like it's dropping out of me.

_Oh._

Well, maybe she just had a question for the boy she's sitting next to. Maybe it has nothing to do with me being a Misfit Toy or whatever. Maybe we're still okay. She said we were, so we have to be, right? Right. We have to be.

PE goes the same way and lunch is kind of depressing because I can't find Santana anywhere. The cafeteria is crowded and loud and I feel sort of overwhelmed by all the people, so I pull my jacket on and go sit out in the commons with my lunchbag. As I sit and eat my turkey sandwich, I watch the geese fly overhead in their _V_s. I count them, hoping that they all have a mate or friend. On the occasion that I see one by itself, I feel horrible for it. Geese might be the jerks of the bird world, but being alone when everyone else in your flock has someone really has to suck. I feel my lip quiver slightly. Like the lonely geese, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in my lunch period who doesn't have someone to sit and eat with.

I put my sandwich down on my brown paper bag and sigh, suddenly not hungry. Where is Santana? Is she working on a project with someone? Did she get sick or have to do something for a teacher? Because she's not in the caf and I'm pretty sure she's not anywhere else. And we're okay, so she'd be with me if she were in the caf. _Duh._

When the bell rings, I throw what I didn't eat away and head to art class. I want to ask Santana if she'll help me with my mobile project. She'd probably think my idea of doing the planets is really cool and want to help. But when I get to class, she's working with some girl on a magazine-clipping collage. It's totally not as cool as mine, so that's probably why she's doing it. I mean, Santana's really awesome so obviously she's trying to loan some of her awesomeness to the really bad looking collage that girl has going. Whatever. Me and Santana are totally okay.

It's not until Home Ec, the last class of the day, that I finally give up and admit to myself that she's avoiding me. My heart feels like it's been stomped on and my chest feels tight. Did Santana lie? Are we really not okay?

When the bell rings, I go up to her by her locker and wait for her to acknowledge me.

"What?" she finally asks when she slams her locker shut. I flinch and fidget with the hem of my t-shirt nervously.

"You...said we're...'kay?" I start, growing flustered at my lack of words. "But...you...'re 'voiding me." My heart sinks at the look on her face. Her jaw seems to clench and her eyes get this look that I don't understand. But I can tell she's kind of angry. The locker slamming was definitely a clue to that.

"I _am_ avoiding you, Brittany," she says, her voice kind of scary angry. "I can't fucking figure you out." Her voice then drops to a sort of angry-hissing voice and I feel like I should move away quickly. Because I'm pretty sure this is what rattlesnakes sound like before they bite you. "Why do you say you're a girl when you're not? Girls don't have dicks!" I feel kind of like I've been punched in the gut. I thought she was my friend, thought we'd be okay. But...but...

"Whatever," she says. My eyes are on my shoes. I can't look at her or I might start crying. I already feel like a loser for thinking we were okay, that she might actually like me as more than a friend. "I just need space, okay? Leave me alone and maybe we'll be okay." I can hear her leave and I don't know what to do. I feel kind of sick, feel like my world's been hit by a giant UFO or something. Everything's starting to feel heavy and my chest is getting tighter than I ever remember it being before.

I think I'm going to fall apart. My seams are going to burst and I'm going to fall apart. Maybe this is why some people never get married and just get a lot of cats...

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not? Girls don't have fucking dicks!_


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

I should also probably mention that I now have an AO3 account under the same name just in case FFnet starts hating on me.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_It's been a long day living with this_  
_It's been a long while since I felt so sick_  
_Took a long walk straight back home_  
_I could've walked back to Chicago_  
_I used to long for time alone_  
_I used to long for a place of my own_  
_and I've lost faith in everything_  
_I'm lost, so lost, I'm lost without you_

Alkaline Trio, "Mercy Me"

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not? Girls don't have fucking dicks!_

Santana's angry hissing voice is playing on repeat in my head like a broken accord as I turn to my locker to get my things for the weekend. I had wanted to argue but my stupid mouth betrayed me again._ I am a girl,_ I protest mentally. I_ am_ a girl.

But I'm a Misfit Toy, so I guess Santana's sort of right. Most girls _don't_ have dicks, but I do. I'm like the train with square wheels on his caboose. Mostly normal but with weird bits that don't match the rest. I sigh, shouldering my backpack and closing my locker. I guess I can't really blame Santana for being freaked out.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

My feet carry me to the small classroom at the back of the library where Mom works with Lucy. Most of the books on the shelves are old, from like the 80s and it smells like mildew and dust. Nobody comes in here unless they have to. Lucy said once that she likes libraries, likes the way it's quiet and you can hear your footsteps as you walk through the shelves. She says it's better than a church when you need time and space to think. It's more welcoming. I've never been to church, so I have to take her word for it.

I can hear the soft thud of my feet, but it doesn't bring me out of my mind much.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

I knock on the door, knowing that they'll be done with cleaning up by now. I hear a muffled _come in_ and I walk in. Lucy smiles at me, but it's not like a real smile. At least, it looks kind of forced to me. Like when someone you really don't want to be around is standing there and you're trying to be polite. Santana told her, didn't she? I feel my heart drop. I guess I'm friendless again. Great.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

I sit down at a spare table and stare at the graffitied surface. Mom says her goodbyes to Lucy and I can hear the door close as she leaves. I can't move my eyes from the carved and inked Spanish words, offensive drawings of teachers and random phone numbers. If I look up, I'll start crying and I don't want to do that here. School's hard enough without looking like a baby.

I feel Mom's hand on my shoulder and can tell she's worried. Usually I'm happy and smiling, so this must be weird to her. My throat is tight as I stand up and silently follow her out of her classroom. I can feel her concern but all I can think about is how my throat feels like its closing. Like a peanut allergy.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

I wish I knew how to turn my brain off or that I could just speak mindlessly like some of the kids at school do. Santana's voice is squeezing my throat and squishing my heart like when there's a spider and Erika screams for me kill it. I don't think I've ever felt this way before, not even when I realized I wasn't ordinated enough to dance like Mama used to. I have no idea how to even start describing this (like I'd ever be able to share it with anyone). The only thing I can think of is dying. Is this how it feels to die? Everything crushing in on you?

My breathing is kind of fast and I'm not really sure how to keep calm because all I can think of is how her face looked and how her angry-hissy-disgusted voice sounded.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

It's stuck there, between my ears and I can't get rid of it. How can I get rid of it? I think I love her and she thinks I'm gross and nasty and...like lutefisk. I don't want to be lutefisk! It's all gross and smelly and it's fish-jelly. Mom's the only one who likes it, but she's a Misfit Toy, so maybe that's why. Am I only ever going to be loved by people who love fish-jelly?

I feel my throat close more and my eyes start to water. I'm fish-jelly, a Misfit Toy. No one's ever going to love me.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

I clench one of my hands into a fist, my nails digging into my palm as I sit shotgun in Mom's old Toyota. My other hand is gripping my backpack and I'm pretty sure my knuckles are going to break because I've never seen them that white before. But I don't really care. I'm fish-jelly. I'm a Misfit Toy and I'll never be loved.

"Kalle?" Mom's voice says and I look around, realizing that we're home and she's kneeling next to me, my door open. Where did everything go? "We're home." I nod, unbuckling my seat belt and rushing to get into our apartment before I start crying or wind up dying because I can't breathe. I can't breathe and it's terrifying. I can't_ breathe._

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

I can hear Mom walk in behind me over the rushing blood in my ears and I spin around, wrapping my arms around her as sobs wrench their way out of my body. They hurt, they hurt so so bad and all I can do is cling to her like she's going to save me from this. I hope she can, but I don't think she can. This isn't a nightmare. This is real. It's actually happening.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

I can feel her pick me up with a grunt and slowly carry me from the front door. I can feel a bed beneath me and I curl up, burying my face into the quilt. The bed sinks and strong arms pull me into Mom's chest, holding me tightly as I sob. My throat hurts and my heart hurts and my head hurts and I just want it to stop.

_Why do you say you're a girl when you're not?_

Mom's hands are rubbing up and down my back, trying to calm me down. I don't know how long it's been since we got here and now I'm mostly just hiccuping. My eyes are puffy and my throat hurts and my nose is stuffed and I'm pretty sure that if I had kept crying, I would've thrown up.

"Do you think you can tell me what happened?" Mom asks, her voice in that soothing tone that always makes me feel better. I loosen my grip on her nice work shirt, but don't move away. I can't look at her face and see her worried eyes because I'll start crying again and I just stopped and I don't want to puke.

"I...like San," I say, wincing at how rough my voice is. It's almost as bad as after the accident._ Almost._ I can make words now, so it's better. Sort of.

"I figured that," Mom says. I close my eyes, feeling them burn against my eyelids. I don't want Mom to kill one of my only two friends, but I want her to know. I need her to know what's going on because she's _Mom._ She_ always_ knows what to do.

"She...is g-gay." I can feel her sigh and I know she isn't thinking good things. I'm not either. "Woke up...was hard... She...she is g-gay." Mom pulls me back into her chest, squeezing me into her like her bear-hugs can erase this. Erase the reason that Santana doesn't like me.

"I'm sorry, Ducky," Mom says and I can feel her voice rumble in her chest as she talks. I snuggle into her, not wanting to leave her arms. "I'm so sorry."

"How...am...girl," I grit my teeth, hating myself more in this moment than I usually do when I have a hard time talking. I_ hate_ my brain. I take a deep breath and try again. "How am I...girl?"

"You're a girl if you say you are, Ducky. And you've always been. The Pierssons are a bit strange and I'm sorry you took after us instead of your mother's family." I shake my head, opening my eyes and looking up at her.

"It's...okay."

Mom's green eyes are sad and I know that she doesn't really believe me, but isn't going to argue. It's not the fact that I have a penis that usually bugs me the most (though it does bother me a lot right now). What bugs me the most is something that she isn't at fault for. Something nobody's been able to fix.

_My stupid brain._

"How did Mama...act?" I ask, my eyes searching Mom's face. She has more freckles than I do and sometimes they make shapes. Kind of like clouds or constellations. If she would let me use a marker on them, I bet I could connect the dots and find a giraffe or unicorn or something. Maybe a dolphin. They're really just gay sharks, so I'm pretty sure that since Mom's gay she'd have a dolphin hidden in her freckles.

"How did she react to me being intersex?" I nod. Mom shrugs and rolls onto her back, pulling me to lie with my head on her shoulder. "Your Mama has always just loved _people._ She loves their hearts. Their bodies come second to that." I sigh as I feel hot tears fill my eyes again. Of course Mama loves hearts and not bodies.

Why does Santana have to love _bodies?_

We lie there in silence until I can hear the clanging of Mama starting dinner. I didn't even know she had gotten home._ How long was I crying for?_ "I promise you, Ducky. One day you'll find someone who loves you for your heart _and_ your body."

I take a handful of her shirt again and close my eyes, fighting the tears that are falling from my face onto Mom's already wet shirt. I can hear the door open behind me. The bed sinks and I can smell Mama's perfume. Mom kisses my forehead and slides out from under me.

"I'll be back, okay Kalle? I'm going to go check on your sister." I nod, burying my face back in the quilt. Mama's hand rubs my arm and she hums a song from when I was little about sunshine and grey skies and I just want to be a little kid again. Little kids don't hurt this bad.

"Eendje," she says, after a while. "I think you should go look out the window." I roll over and stare at her, not really sure what she expects to happen if I do what she says. She makes a shooing motion and I drag myself off the bed, moving slowly to the window.

Oh.

First snow of the season.

I feel my lips move into a half-hearted grin. I love it when it first starts snowing. When I was little I wanted to have a baby polar bear as a pet so we could go explore the snow together and play hide-and-seek. I'd probably always lose because she'd blend in, but it would be _fun._

"I think Erika would go out with you if you wanted," Mama says and I look over to her. Her smile is as heartfelt as it ever is, but her eyes (my eyes) are worried. "I'll make hot chocolate."

"Pep-mint?" I ask, my lips breaking into a full grin, not caring that my mouth skipped the middle part of the word. I have never needed a distraction more than I do now and this is the best kind. Mama nods and opens her arms for a hug. I move to her and wrap my arms around her tiny frame.

"I'll put peppermint in it." When I pull away, she motions for me to bend a bit so she can kiss my forehead. "I know it hurts, Eendje, but I promise it won't always. It_ will_ get better." I bite my lip and kiss her cheek before going to find Erika. Traditions are traditions, even if I feel like I've died.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

I should also probably mention that I now have an AO3 account under the same name just in case FFnet starts hating on me.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_The most loneliest day of my life_  
_Such a lonely day_  
_And it's mine_  
_It's a day that I'm glad I survived_

System of a Down, "Lonely Day"

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

"Watch it, retard," someone says, roughly shouldering me as they go by. I stumble into another kid and drop my books and papers everywhere. My cheeks burn in embarrassment as I fall to my knees to collect them. Ever since Santana found out about me being a Misfit Toy, I've been left to fend for myself. We're still friends, according to her, but she said she wants space. Apparently "space" means avoiding me.

"Here," a quiet voice says. I glance up to find Lucy kneeling in front of me, holding my history book and some papers in her hands. I smile in thanks and take them, trying to quickly rearrange them. Lucy pulls me up, her hazel eyes bright and happy. I don't understand why she was being nice to me. _Didn't Santana tell her?_

"Santana...didn't tell?" I ask, stress and fear making it harder to speak. She raises an eyebrow, a small smile on her lips.

"She did, but it doesn't change anything." I feel my mouth open a bit in surprise. "I told your mom this and I'll tell you too. You're still Brittany, my best friend and the best listener I've ever met. Just stay awesome, okay?" Her hand reaches up to my face and pushes my jaw shut. Her thumb traces my cheek before she drops her hand and takes mine in hers. "They're having me start going into a couple of regular classes a week. I'm in your history on A days."

I grin widely, following her to Mr. Kitchen's classroom. I still have Lucy and she doesn't care. Suddenly today is the awesomest day I've had all month. Mom's speaking with the little old man and he's nodding. Lucy drops my hand and goes to them and I head back to my seat. I watch as Mr. K places a hand on her shoulder and points her to the back of the room. I do a mental happy dance when I realize that the only two empty desks are on either side of me.

She makes her way towards me as the other kids start filing into class. Mom smiles back at us before leaving the room. The bell rings and the room goes quiet. Everyone respects Mr. K, even that Noah kid that never pays attention in any other class. It might be because he's the funnest teacher that anyone has ever had or the way that he booms when he talks because he's hard of hearing.

He says he went half-deaf when he was in the Navy because he fell asleep in the engine room on his ship a couple times. Apparently it hums or something and it makes you sleepy, but it's really loud. I'm not really sure how that works out, but I'll take his word for it.

It's the one class where nobody talks unless we're told we can. It's the one class where I'm not made fun of. I wasn't really made fun of, at least not to my face, until Santana stopped hanging out with me. Now I'm constantly being shoved and mocked. I feel like Harry Potter when he went to muggle school, except I don't think I'll be going to Hogwarts anytime soon. I just hope that if Lucy starts hanging out with me, she won't get bullied either. She's too nice for that.

When Mr. K lets us break into groups, I scoot my desk so it's touching Lucy's. She smiles at me and I share my book with her.

"I heard your mom talking to Santana today on our way here." My head shot up to look at her. _Oh no._ Was Santana going to hate me now? I hoped not. I missed how her pinkie fit around mine, how she fills the space with funny stories when me and Lucy don't talk. I would happily never bring up when we kissed if she would just_ talk_ to me.

"Your mom is pretty badass," Lucy says and I bite my lip. I've never heard her say something like this, but it's kind of cool. Maybe she's coming out of her shell like a turtle does when they feel safe. I might just start calling her _Turtle_ now. "She stopped next to Santana's locker and said, 'You know, everyone has secrets. They keep them for lots of different reasons. And sometimes those reasons are so they don't get beaten or killed. Just think about that, will you?'

"Then she just walked away. I kind of want to steal her from you." I sit, frozen. What am I supposed to say?

I sigh and turn back to my history book. I'm really not happy about Mom doing that. Santana wanted space and I was trying to give it to her, but I'm pretty sure having your mom corner her was breaking that agreement. Sometimes I think the universe is plotting against me doing that weird pinkie next to its chin thing like Dr. Evil does. Or maybe cackling with a bad German accent like Berger-Meister-Meister-Berger does.

"I don't think she's mad, Britt. I think she's just trying to figure everything out." I nodded sullenly and stared blankly at the words in my book. This week we were learning about Hams attacking Asia. I'm not really sure why pigs hate Asians as much as they seem to, but whatever. I guess they don't like being put in Chinese food.

When class is over, I follow Lucy out to my locker to get my things to go home. She stands next to me, beaming happily. I stuff my homework into my backpack and turn to her, giving her a questioning look. I receive a head shake and an arm slipped into mine as we head to the library for her to meet with Mom before leaving.

"Lucy?" I say quietly as we make our way through the shelves. She pauses mid stride and looks at me, curious. I quirk my lips in a nervous smile. "Stay tonight? Watch movies?"

"Okay," she says. "But we need to talk to your mom first and then I have to see if Aunt Mary's okay with it." I pull her into a tight hug for a moment before letting her pull me into her and Mom's classroom.

"There you are, Lucy," Mom says, not looking up from the papers on her desk. "I was going to come look for you in a minute." I sit down on top of a table and watch as my friend places a book on the desk.

"Sorry Ms. Piersson," Lucy says. "Brittany and I were talking." Mom looks up and notices me, eyes softening. I wave before making the one handed sign for _I love you_. She signs it back and I can tell she knows I had a good day. Or, at least, had a good end to my day.

"Hi Ducky," she says before looking back to Lucy. "So, how was it?"

"I'll be okay as long as I'm with B." Mom nods and starts packing her papers up. Once everything is in her worn backpack, she stands and gestures for Lucy and I to follow her.

"I'll see if I can put you into more of her classes if you test into them." Lucy raises an eyebrow and I realize she doesn't know that I'm in AP classes all morning.

"AP class," I say, clarifying. Hazel eyes widen and she grins, high-fiving me. I smile widely and hug her with one arm as we make our way out of the school. She pulls away from me and I feel a small wave of sadness.

"I'll call as soon as I know what Aunt Mary says, okay?" I nod and grin. She hugs me again before walking over to where Joel and Dylan are sitting on their car's trunk. I turn back to Mom and we make our way to her car. I feel happy, floating almost. Having a friend again is awesome. I missed her.

"Lucy...come over?" I ask as I buckle myself in and she starts the engine. Mom raises an eyebrow at me. I know that she's thinking of the last sleepover I had and how it ended. But I know it won't happen this time. Lucy doesn't care. She likes me anyways.

"Okay," she says and I fist-pump excitedly. "But please try to not be loud like your sister always is? Your Mama and I would like to sleep." I nod and my leg bounces as I try to contain my anticipation. My friend is coming over for a sleepover. I've never had one at any of the places we've lived before. Not even before the accident. It's gonna be totally awesome! We're gonna watch _Monty Python_ and eat popcorn and ice cream and stay up until 4 am! _Awesomeness!_


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

I should also probably mention that I now have an AO3 account under the same name just in case FFnet starts hating on me.

The next chapter has a rating jump, fyi.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_  
_You make me happy when skies are grey_  
_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_  
_Please don't take my sunshine away_

Johnny Cash, "You Are My Sunshine"

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

I'm sitting on the couch between Mom and Mama, watching _A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving_. I remember when we moved back to the United States the first time. I was like eight and Erika was ten. Mom had come into the living room, looking more excited than I had ever seen her before and turned on the TV. We watched _It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_ and I thought it was the best thing I had ever seen. My Christmas present that year was a box DVD set of all the Charlie Brown movies.

The phone rings in the background and I can hear Erika moving to answer it. It's probably one of her stupid Fruity Pebble friends. They're really dumb and I'm not sure that it's only because they're named after a kind of cereal. They make me look like a genius and I'm not that great at classes unless it's like physics and math. Chemistry's pretty easy too.

"Kalle! Phone!" I look over at Erika, not really sure what to do. I very rarely get phone calls (with the exception of when Mom was in Sweden) so this is pretty weird. And worrisome. What if something's happened to someone? I get up, moving into the kitchen and taking the phone from my sister. "It's Lucy."

I nod and press the phone to my ear. I can hear sniffling in the background. "H'lo?"

"Hi Brittany," Lucy says and her voice makes me feel sad. "It's Lucy. Can you come over? I kind of need a friend right now. We can watch a movie or something."

"Okay," I say and hang the phone up. I walk back into the living room and look at my parents. They're both watching me curiously, the movie paused. "Lucy needs...me." Mom frowns and opens her mouth, but Mama puts a hand on her thigh, stopping her.

"Okay," Mama says. "But I'm driving you. Cutting through the park after dark probably isn't a good idea." I nod and smile, moving quickly to the room I share with Erika. I go and grab my Lima Heights hoodie, pulling it over my head before meeting Mama at the door. When my shoes are on my feet and I have my jacket buttoned, we leave and head for the parking lot.

The ride to the Lopez house is quiet and takes all of five minutes. When mama pulls up in front of their house, she puts the car in park. "I want you to call me to get you if you need me to. Okay? Ik hou van je, Eendje."

I smile and lean across the gap to kiss her cheek. "Love too, Mama." I get out of the car and hurry up to the porch. I can hear Emma and Tyler running around as I ring the doorbell and I grin when the blonde little head of Emma Fabray looks out the window and beams when she sees me. I can hear her shouting for Lucy. The door opens and my friend is standing there, eyes bloodshot and arms wrapped around her middle. I open my arms and hug her tightly, not really sure what else I can do.

"I've got _Monty Python_ movies," she offers as she pulls away and leads me down into the Lopez basement. I sit on the couch and watch as she fumbles with the DVD player and remote before coming and sitting next to me. I know she's upset over something and when I'm upset, I like cuddling, so I pull her gently into me as I lie down. Her back is against my front and I hold her tightly, trying to make her feel safe. She's my best friend and I just want her to be okay.

_Monty Python's Life of Brian_ starts, but I don't really pay attention to it. The way Lucy's shaking and too quiet even for her quiet self is worrying me. I run a hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her. I'm not sure it'll work because when she's upset she usually doesn't seem to like touching that much, but I hope that she'll allow it this time. Because I don't know how to make her feel better. I'm no good at this stuff.

After a while, she shifts so she's facing me, slightly lying on me and I hug her to my chest. I guess she's okay with me touching her when she's emotional, at least right now. I'm glad for that because it means I don't have to stumble through the words my mother always says to me when I'm sad or scared or whatever. I'd sound like a moron if I tried.

My eyes drift to the raised scar on her throat and I wonder to myself. Then I figure it couldn't hurt to just ask. "What's...from?" I ask, fingering the raised skin lightly. Lucy freezes for a moment before opening her eyes and looking at me.

"My father." My eyes widen. Her _dad_ hurt her? Was that why she lived with her Aunt Mary and Santana instead of her parents? My heart felt like it was breaking for her. "He wasn't...he wasn't nice. He-He drank a lot and he hit my Mom." I brush her hair out of her face gently, wishing I could just hug her forever. I wish I could make her ghosts go away and make everything better.

She breathes in before talking more. "He threw a broken bottle at me once. That's how I got the scar." I nod, squeezing her slightly.

"Where's...your mom?"

Lucy closes her eyes and I see her swallow and her breathing hitch. "My father was really mad one night and he was yelling at her. I hid Emma in a closet and made sure she couldn't see anything. He was waving a gun around and dropped it. It went off and my mom fell. I could hear him freak out, saw him run out of the house with the gun. I called the police." I hold her close, not knowing what else to do. I don't hate people, but I'm pretty sure I hate her father. He killed her mom and gave her a scar and I'm pretty sure he did other things because she's always so...timid. I want to find him and kick him in the balls or feed his insides to crows and have them grow back constantly and re-eaten like that dude in Greece.

"The police shot him. Me and Emma came to live with Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe." She paused. "I don't know how to make the memories go away. There are times where everything's fine and I think I'm finally getting to move on, but then they just come back and I don't know what to do." She shudders and I have a feeling she's going to cry. I know how she feels, sort of. About the memories at least.

"Paper?" I ask quietly. Lucy stares at me for a moment and I guess she realizes I want to tell her something. She gets off of me and disappears for a moment before reappearing with a pen and notebook. I sit up and start writing.

_This might not be the same thing, but it's similar. If you look through my hair, you can see scars. If I take my shirt off you'll see scars. Just because they're healed doesn't mean everything is. Brains get hurt too. My brain doesn't work that great. I have memories that scare me and make me sick._

_Mom and I were in a car accident a while back. Mom was okay except for a couple cuts and bruises and she busted her arm. I wasn't. I got in a coma for a while and when I woke up I couldn't walk or talk. Walking was the easy part. I learned sign language in the hospital and I still see a speech therapist now. I still have a hard time talking because my mouth gets tired or something. I'm not really sure what._

_But the memories won't go away. When we saw that movie and that guy was in a car crash? That made me think of things and I wanted to puke. I have good days where I won't remember any of it and then I have bad days, like you. Mine's different, but it's similar. It changed everything because now I'm retarded._

_What I want to tell you is that you just have to work through the bad days. Go for a run or play with a puppy or feed ducks. You just have to do something to get out of your head. Okay?_

I stop writing and look up at Lucy, hoping I helped. I'm not sure if it will, but I want to try. I watch as her eyes move across the lines and I can see her bite the inside of her cheek. When her eyes finally meet mine, she has tears in them and she hugs me. We stay like that for a long while before she finally pulls back.

"Why don't you use sign language more often?" I shrug.

"I want...talk," I say and smile slightly. She shakes her head and squeezes my arm.

"I think you should teach me so we can have a secret language." I laugh and high five her before starting to teach her the finger alphabet. I'm happy she found something to distract herself with. I just hope it works.

* * *

I fidget with the ziplock in my hands as I walk to Lucy's locker. I nearly lit our apartment on fire this morning making it. I've never made real bacon before, just the microwave kind. I remember once when Lucy told me about bacon being her favorite food. She said it was the candy of the meat world which made me laugh. So, I made her a BLT without the LT. Erika wrinkled her nose and told me I was being disgusting and unhealthy when I was busy trying to cook this morning. When I explained to Mama what I was doing, she had that look on her face that she always gets when she's proud of me for something. Like, this time it was because I was such a thoughtful young woman. She hugged me for a long while and then wiped at her eyes, saying I was growing up too fast.

I lean against the locker next to Lucy's and wait for her, staring at the toe of my sneaker as I kick the ground. The other kids are milling around, goofing off and slamming lockers. I look up to find Lucy making her way towards where I am and I grin. Santana is behind her and she frowns slightly when she spots me. I swallow and turn to Lucy, slowly finger-spelling bacon to see if she gets what I made for her.

Her eyes widen and she stares at the sandwich in my hand with a shocked smile. I hand it over to her and she wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. She sniffles slightly and whispers, "Thanks, Brittany."

We break apart and I see a strange look on Santana's face before she walks off. I know I'm not the best with people, so I'm not even going to bother trying to figure out what's wrong with her. Is she mad that me and Lucy are friends? I roll my eyes. _Girls are weird sometimes._

I teach Lucy how to sign_ thank you_ and _you're welcome_ before telling her in my slow, fractured way to have a good day. I sign as I say it and she mimics me. I know she's learning sign language to distract herself, but as I head to class, I wonder if she knows that I'm using teaching her as an excuse to distract myself. Though, given everything that's she's figured out, she probably has. Lucy's pretty smart for a fourteen year old.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee_. It wouldn't be misogynistic and there would be continuation. Imagine that!

**A/N: **This is for Mia. Give props to glee-southwriter for being an awesome beta.

I would like to remind everyone that this story is in the Angst/Romance column. It will be Brittana, just not yet. I promise.

I should also probably mention that I now have an AO3 account under the same name just in case FFnet starts hating on me.

This chapter has a rating jump, fyi.

I hope y'all like this. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_There's some kind of light at the end_  
_Stoned, forgetful, and then_  
_I'm drinking what used to be sin_  
_And touching the edge of her skin_

_And could you be the one that's not afraid_  
_To look me in the eye_  
_I swear I would collapse_  
_If I would tell how I think you fell_  
_From the sky_

Blue October, "You Make Me Smile"

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

I stomp my boots on the front porch of the Lopez house, trying to get the snow off them as I follow Lucy into the house. It's freezing outside and we've been shovelling snow for one of the neighbors and having snowball fights with Emma and Tyler. It's been awesome but I'm pretty sure that my nose might fall off my face now.

We strip off our coats and head down to the basement to change into dry clothes, laughing along the way. As I straighten up to finish fastening my jeans, I catch a glimpse of Lucy's ass as she bends over to pick something up, clad only in her panties. I can feel myself start to harden and I groan internally, hating how much of a horny hormonal mess I am most of the time. I shift, adjusting myself so it's not so obvious and hoping she doesn't look over.

Lately, I've sort of given up on tucking when I'm not at school. Usually, I use tape, then put panties and compression shorts on over. I normally let things get a breather when I'm at home, but now that my friend knows, there's really not much of a point. Tucking is uncomfortable and if I could get away with having a bit of a bulge in my jeans or shorts without anyone questioning me, I'd totally just not tuck.

But right now, the boner situation is not good. If I were tucking, it'd pull at the tape and I'd probably have sore spots later, but it wouldn't be _that_ noticeable. Just uncomfortable and nerve-wracking... Damn it. I shift uncomfortably and Lucy picks that moment to look over at me. Her face gets concerned and she raises an eyebrow. I shrug, one hand in my pocket, trying to keep my erection from going back to its normal position and being obvious.

"You okay, B?" I grin uneasily and sort of move backwards to sit on the couch. But, I manage to misjudge the distance and obstacles because I trip, sprawling backwards. I land with a quiet_ ooomf_. Lucy rushes to me and I prop myself up on my elbows, belatedly realizing that my attempts to hide what's going on are futile in this position. Lucy looks me over, to make sure I'm not broken and her eyes pause at the front of my jeans before flicking up to meet mine. "Y'know, it's really not that big a deal to me. I get periods, you get...stuff like that. It's natural."

My cheeks and ears are burning red and I look away from her, grateful that she's not screaming at me or slapping me or kicking me out. She helps me to my feet and gestures to the staircase.

"I don't think anyone's in the bathroom upstairs if you need to go adjust or whatever." I'm both amazed and mortified that innocent little Lucy Fabray is this comfortable about talking of boners and adjusting. Who would've thought it? I smile and sign _thank you_ before heading up the stairs, my hands in my hoodie pocket.

As I make my way to the bathroom, I realize that the door is opening. I shove my hands further into my hoodie-pocket, hoping it's not obvious I'm trying to cover myself up by doing that. My jaw drops and my dick stiffens a bit more as Santana walks out, a towel wrapped around her body and water dripping from her hair and down her shoulders. She's headed in the opposite direction, so she hasn't seen me which is something I'm eternally grateful for. When she disappears into the room they share, I slip into the bathroom.

I groan and look down at the front of my jeans, knowing that just sitting it out isn't gonna do anything for me now. I'd be in here for hours. The thought of the way water trailed down her tanned skin makes me close my eyes for a minute and I sigh, making up my mind. I pull my hoodie off and undo my jeans, lowering them to my knees as I stand in front of the toilet. I put the seat up and grab a wad of toilet paper, setting it on the edge of the counter.

I close my eyes, my hand gently gripping below the head of my dick and sliding down. In my mind's eye, I can see the water trailing down her collar-bone, the towel catching it as it journeys south. I feel myself get harder, throb more intensely and I move my thumb to smear the precum that's built up, teasing myself. My hand twists a bit over the head, and I bite back a groan. I lick my lips, imagining what it'd be like to help her out of the towel, see where the drop of water went.

My hand moves a bit faster now, squeezing tighter as I go down, looser on the way back up, keeping with the twisting. My lower belly starts feeling warm and I can feel my thighs tensing. I grab the toilet paper from where I set it down and open my eyes, holding my unoccupied hand in front of my dick, waiting. I can feel my spine tingling, my heart pounding and my balls tightening as I feel the cum coming up. I bite the inside of my cheek as my hips jerk slightly and I empty myself out.

I slowly stop moving my hand, squeezing the last out and dropping the used tissues into the toilet. I grab another wad of paper to clean myself up with and flinch slightly at how sensitive I am. It's when I'm washing my hands that I suddenly feel slightly guilty. I just jerked off in the Lopez house, thinking of their daughter. Holy crap. I'm a _creep!_


End file.
